


The Battle of The Bastard

by WriteVWrong



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Daenerys will eventually appear., F/M, R plus L equals J
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-09 22:19:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 22,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12285453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteVWrong/pseuds/WriteVWrong
Summary: After King Robert Baratheon makes his way to Winterfell to appoint Ned Stark as his new Hand, he orders a small tourney to be held in his honour.





	1. Decisions, Decisions, Decisions

The King's arrival in Winterfell wasn't without its struggles. They had to prepare a large feast in his honour, make the Castle look acceptable ( or as best they could, given the location of said castle ) and to make sure the King and his retinue of Kingsgaurd and Courtmembers alike were all comfortable in the frigid climate of the North.

The reason the King was traveling all this way to the North was obvious: Robert Baratheon needed a new Hand of The King, and that honour would inevitably go to his best friend, Eddard Stark, Lord of Wintefell and Warden of the North. 

After the King and his company arrived, he immediately ordered Ned Stark to take him down to the Crypts of Winterfell, to pay his respects to his former betrothed, Leanna Stark of Winterfell. After what seemed like an eternity down there, both men returned from the seemingly endless abyss. Whilst King Robert left to get ready for the feast, Lord Stark still had business to attend to before the feast could commence.

Several hours later, the feast was in full swing. Ale, food, music and dancing was being shared by everyone in the great. The Stark and Baratheon family all sat together at the high table, with the exception of one: Jon Snow. This wasn't a new experience to Jon, as whenever his family had important guests and visitors at the great Keep, he'd always make himself scare. Why would anyone want to lay their eyes on a Bastard.

Near the end of the feast, King Robert declared that a Tournament Duel was to take place tomorrow morning. "Kingslayer!" He shouted "You will be my champion" Jaime Lannister, the man in question, stood forward, removed his helm and said "It would be my honour, Grace." 

Then Robert turned around to his friend, the only man in the entire Seven Kingdoms he would call brother and said "My Kingslayer against your son." Lord and Lady Stark were both shocked at the Kings demand. "Your Grace, whilst we see this as a honour, we cannot and will not allow Robb to fight Ser Jaime" He said. "Robb is a capable fighter, but compared to your champion, he is no more than a greenboy."

With that the King started to laugh. This kept going for what seemed like an eternity before he finally stopped long enough to speak again. "I wasn't on about Robb, Ned."

Ned was confused. The king saw this look on his friends face and continued.

"Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsgaurd will face Jon Snow, The Bastard of Winterfell."


	2. Prelude - Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the King's firm declaration, Jon decided to retire for the night. Before he can do so however, he is bombarded with visitors. All of them he expected. All of them except one.

After the Kings revelation, Jon Snow decided that he should stop drinking. After all, he would be fighting one of the greatest swordsman to have ever grace the Seven Kingdoms. Getting drunk the night before such a fight would be suicide. Even going up against the Kingslayer whilst sober would still be suicide. No matter the case, the King had made up his mind. A Bastard versus a Knight. Jon tried to think of a crueller joke. 

Jon was suddenly brought out of his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door. He was tired and all he wanted to do was sleep. But he couldn’t. So he went to the door and opened it, to see none other than his father there. Lord Eddard Stark was a big man, strong and lean. Yet he also possessed a delicate side to him, reserved to only his wife and children, Trueborn or Bastard alike. 

“Father, are you alright?” Jon asked. He felt like a fool. Of course his father was alright; he was the bloody Lord of Winterfell and Warden of The North. Then his father laughed, completely catching Jon off guard. “Of course I am, my son.” Lord Stark said. He wasn’t finished however. “The question is, Jon, are you alright? Don’t try and act dumb, I can only imagine what you’re going through. To go up against Ser Jaime Lannister would normally be a great honour, despite his history. You will do well, My son, you will do well.” Before Jon could even reply to his Lord father, he was gone, closing the door softly behind him, leaving Jon to stair at the livery that decorated the back of said door; a Winter Rose.

After his Father, the rest of his family came to see him. Jon was in for a long night, which was never a good thing before a fight. First came Robb, saying that instead of fighting with swords, both Jon and Ser Jaime should battle each other with their pretty boy looks; Then came Bran, begging Jon to tell him what it’s like to fight an anointed knight like Ser Jaime; Next was Arya and Sansa. Arya begged and pleaded with Jon to let her fight the Kingslayer with him. All Jon could do in reply was laugh whilst roughing up his sweet sister’s hair. Sansa was quiet, as expected, but before she left, she showed Jon a kindness she hadn’t shown him in years. Last to arrive was little Rickon, accompanied by his Direwolf Shaggywolf, and his mother, Lady Stark. Rickon didn’t understand what was happening, he just knew that Jon was fighting someone, something he had done many times in the past. After Rickon had spoken to Jon, Lady Stark had a servant take her youngest wolf cub and escort him back to his room to prepare for bed.

After she closed the door, Lady Stark turned around and looked at Jon. He dreaded what she was about to say. Everything she seemed to say only reminded him of what he was: The Bastard of Winterfell. But instead, for the first time in his entire life, she spoke kind words to him. Well, kinder than usual words that is. “I will never love you. You will always be a bastard, you will always be a stain upon my husband’s honour, no matter what becomes of you. You could become a sellsword or The Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. Seven Hells, you could even be the rightful heir to the Iron Throne and I still wouldn’t love you! But my children do. My husband does. They need you to win. All of us, including myself, will stay awake tonight. They will do so because they’ll worry about you. I will do so because I’ll worry about them” She said. Lady Stark had no intention of stopping however.” That is why tomorrow, you must go to the Training Yard like the Wolf you are. Show the Lions and the Stags what happens when they wonder onto a wolves territory. Do not show any weakness.” With that, she was finally finished, and left his room. To say Jon Snow was shocked would be an understatement. Lady Stark was, well Lady Stark. Yet she had given Jon some form of confidence for the battle that loomed ahead. 

Certain that he would have no more visitors, Jon decided to retire for the night. Washing his face first, he then went on to remove his clothing piece by piece. First the boots, then the tunic and as he was about to remove his leather breaches, he heard his door open, once again. Only this time Jon was thoroughly surprised at who stood in his doorway. Shock and incomprehension clearly visible on his pale face. What was he, of all people, doing here?

“Ser Jaime, can I help you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so back with another chapter. Thank you so much for the support you guys have shown me in the first chapter, it seriously means alot to me. Hopefully I've done this chapter well and you guys like it. Comments and reviews would be much appreciated, as I really do love reading what you guys have to say. I really do take into account what you guys have to say.
> 
> This chapter is a bit longer than the last one, but I'm not sure if I can keep up like this. Don't get me wrong, I would love to write 5,000 word chapters if every single word was interesting. What I don't want to do is ramble and get nowhere with the series. So with that said, I really hope you guys like this chapter. Again, please leave comments with your thoughts.
> 
> P.S. - R+L=J. I deliberately left hints at Jon's true parentage in this chapter, so let me know if you figured them all out, and if you think I should keep going with them. They were certainly fun to write aha


	3. Chapter 3

"Ser Jaime, can I help you?"

The lion of Casterly Rock didn't immediately reply; this concerned Jon slightly. Jaime Lannister just stood in his doorway, observing him. Jon was getting slightly embarrassed, as not only was he in a state of undress, but Ser Jaime also had this look on his face that Jon couldn't quite decipher. Finally, he spoke.

"No, 'Lord Snow', you can't help me. Unless you plan on yielding to me right here" he said. "So that's why he's here, to see if I'm Craven" Jon thought bitterly. "Now why would I do that?" The next words that came out of Jaime's mouth cut into Jon like a thousand Valyrian Steel blades. "Why? Because you're a Bastard, that's why. Fighting you is no challenge at all." The words Jaime Lannister spoke were true, Jon knew that. Why would a member of the Kingsguard want to fight a Bastard? The fact that Ser Jaime was forced into this melee contest was all the proof Jon needed to know what the world thought of him; A stain upon the world, one that couldn't be wiped away, one the rest of world had to put up with.

“The only people I’ve sparred with have been Ser Rodrick, Winterfells Master At Arms and his nephew, Jory Cassel. There’s also my broth… my half-brother Robb, and Lord Stark’s ward, Theon Greyjoy. So you’re probably right, fighting me is no challenge at all. I’m no craven, I have no doubt in my mind that I will lose tomorrow. But you won’t win so easily” Jon stated in anger and defiance. He wanted to let this Kingslayer know that if Jon was to fight, he’d bloody well fight hard. He looked over Jaime’s face, looking for a reaction and was truly astonished by his response: Laughter. Jaime fucking Lannister was laughing at him. 

“You remind me a lot of someone, Jon Snow. Can you possibly guess who that is? No? Your aunt, Lyanna Stark. She had a ferocity to her that wasn’t matched by anyone, though I suppose from what I’ve heard of your little sister Arya, she may have given your aunt a run for her money. She didn’t care that she was a woman, she didn’t care that the odds were against her. Once she set her mind to something, she went through with it. No matter the consequences. Exactly like you. It seems you’re more like her than your own bloody father. It was truly a shame what happened to her. And your family for that matter.” Ser Jaime said sadly, as though the memory was painful to him. 

“How old are you boy?”

“4 and ten”

“You’re 14 years of age and you have abody like that? Good lord. How often do you train? 6 hours a day? Longer? Maybe tomorrow will be a challenge after all. Only one way to find out.”   
Ser Jaime made towards the door, about to exit, before he turned around and looked at Jon Snow one final time. “Good luck tomorrow boy. If you have even an ounce of Wolfsblood, like your aunt, I have no doubt we’ll put on quite a show for the fat king.” With that final sentence, Ser Jaime left Jon’s quarters.

*  
what Ser Jaime, or even Jon Snow for that matter realized, was that someone had overheard their entire conversation. Had heard everything that Jon had said, that Ser Jaime had said. He only had one thought regarding this situation. That he had failed her. That he couldn’t keep his promise. The same sentence kept playing over and over and over again in his head.

 

“Promise me”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, back again with another chapter for this series. I apologise immensity for the delay in this chapter, as I have been swamped with college and work. Plus somehow I managed to damage my hand in such a way I was forced to write with my left hand. Yeah, my handwriting was absolutely atrocious. That also meant I couldn't type on a computer either, so apologies for that.
> 
> With all that being said, I really hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm not sure when the next one will be out, but it won't take as long. I hope. Thanks to all those who may have stuck with me through this unexpected hiatus, your dedication truly means a lot to me.   
> Feedback is much appreciate, and as always, enjoy the show.


	4. Chapter 4

Winterfell was quiet. Eerily so. It was never a loud or noisy place, but today marked an event that had all its residents worried. An event that was to take place due to the idiotic actions by an equally idiotic king. Anointed Knight vs Acknowledged bastard. Lion vs Wolf. Ser Jaime Lannister vs Jon Snow. The fight was to take place during the afternoon, where the sun would shine on the bleak courtyard that was used for sparring. Everything was in order. All that was needed now was the opponents. 

Jaime  
Normally when Jaime Lannister woke up before a fight, he’d feel the anticipation coursing through his body. To show his opponent why he was made a Kingsgaurd at the age of 5 and 10. It was no secret throughout the realm that he was a terrific fighter, who almost had no equal, bar Ser Barristan Selmy. This morning however, when he woke up he felt nothing. Whatever pride and hope and excitement he may have had the night before was long gone. If anything, all he felt was dread. But for what? He’s fought many a bastard before this Jon Snow. Why on earth would he care what happens now? Deciding to finally to get out of bed, he walked towards the mirror that was in his chambers. As he gazed upon it, he expected to see a strong and fearless man reflected on the glass. Instead he saw a man that had his body, his face and the numerous scars that came with it. But he couldn’t see himself. This was the last thing he needed right a duel. “I may actually be turning Craven” some part of his mind said. He pushed that thought away, deciding instead to dress for the day. As it was still early in the morning, he decided he would equip his Armor right before the fight. He didn’t need all that extra weight draining him of all his energy during the day. He felt as though he would need every single drop of it. And whenever he gets feelings like those, they’re always right. 

After he had put on his Lannister red boots, he left his chambers, making his way through the castle of Winterfell in order to reach its great hall, where he would break his fast with the rest of the Lannister Pride. He soon arrived at his destination, seeing that his niece and nephew, Tommen and Myrcella, were already there, accompanied by their mother. Cersei had this peculiar look on her face. He couldn’t quite decipher it. He’d never seen this look before. “Could it be fear? No, why would she be afraid. Of a Bastard no less. Though in her defence she has every reason to hate bastards” Jaime thought. However, he was suddenly brought out by these thoughts when a young boy yelled and ran towards him. “Uncle Jaime, Uncle Jaime!” Young Tommen Baratheon shouted, whilst running right into his destination. “Are you ready for your fight?” the young boy said, obviously filled with excitement. And who wouldn’t be under the same circumstances. “I am indeed my Prince, but I feel as though I need a big breakfast to fill my tummy before such a bout. why, I can’t have belly rumbling halfway through the duel now, can I? he said, with his signature grin plastered all over his face.

“Your uncle needs all his energy to fight” Cersei added, finally joining the conversation, “even if it is against a Bastard".

“And there she is, my darling, kind sweet sister, baring her fangs like the lioness she is” Jaime thought bitterly to himself. 

“I mean who does he think he is, to challenge you to a duel? You, one of the greatest swordsman the Seven Kingdoms has ever seen? He’s like all bastards, only looking for power, not caring how they get or who they harm” She declared. 

“He’s not like all other bastards Cersei. And he didn’t challenge me to a duel. He was ordered to fight me, as I was ordered to fight him just the same, by our kind and gracious kin” Jaime replied.

“Oh, dearest brother, don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with him? Maybe you could Renly for some tips” she quipped.

“I’m not in love with him, Your Grace. He’s only focused on his family, quite the opposite of what bastards are known for. He’s not a coward, and when I asked if he wanted to forfeit before our fight, he seemed to want to fight me. Even knowing that he’ll probably lose” 

“Of course he’ll lose, he’s a bloody ba-“she began, only to be cut off.

“We all know he’s a bastard. No need to keep reminding him. He will never forget it. He may lose, but it will after a very long and bloody fight, I’m sure of it. You should’ve seen him Cersei. He’s a boy of 4 and ten. You would of that him to be skinny and bony for his age. He’s not. He has the body of a man who’s seen thousands of battles, minus the scars". Jaime replied dryly.

“Well, maybe you can give him some then. Show him why lions are considered an apex predator.” And with that final sentence, she gathered her children, who had remained silent throughout the entire exchange, and left the great hall.

After she had left, only one thought was going through Jaime. 

He was fucked.

Eddard

“If Robert finds out, he’ll kill him. You have to protect him. Promise me, Ned. Promise me.  
Promise me, Ned. Promi-“

“LYANNA”!!!

For the first time in 14 years, Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of The North, awoke from a nightmare, drenched in sweat. The last time he had experienced such a dream was when he arrived back to Winterfell, after the Rebellion had ended. After he brought back his nephew. And his dead mother.   
For 14 years, Ned had done his best to protects his sisters one and only child. A child that wasn’t born out of hatred and rape, but one instead of true love. A love that had started a bloody, fucking rebellion. A love that had cost Ned his father and brother. A love that cost baby Aegon and his older sister Rheanys Targeryan their lives. A love that brought Jon Snow into this world. For 14 years he had thought he had done well, fulfilling his sisters last dying wish, protecting the young boy from Robert Baratheon. Only to have the man himself come to Winterfell and put the boy’s life in danger. Though of course Ned couldn’t do anything. Or say anything. Otherwise he’d be branded a traitor and probably have his head smashed in., mirroring what happened to Rhaegar’s youngest child, and what happened to Rheagar’s very own chest.

But he couldn’t deal with those thoughts right now. Instead he had to focus on what to say to his wife, who’s intense gaze was almost as sharp as Valyrian Steel, boring its way into the back of his skull. He couldn’t keep the secret anymore. Not after what he had just screamed out in panic. 

“Cat, there’s something I need to tell you. Something about my sister. And her husband. And… and her son.”

 

Jon  
Ever since the execution of the nightswatch deserter, and the discovery of the direwolf pups, Jon had been getting the strangest of dreams. The first dream had been of the Tourney of Harrenhall, and the adventures of the Knight of The Laughing Tree. Then there was the battle at The Trident, where the king Robert Baratheon had fought against Rhaegar Targaryen, and smashing his massive Warhammer down into the former Crown Prince’s chest. Then his last dream was of his father, Lord Stark fighting against the Sword of The Morning, Ser Arther Dayne in Dorne. After the Targaryen Kingsgaurd was defeated, that was when his dream would end. He had no idea what these dreams meant. Or why he kept dreaming them, over and over again. The only thing that seemed to calm him down was when he was in the Godswood. Here he could empty his mind of any thoughts that would trouble, to pray for strength and courage to lead him through his next day. Considering what lied in wait for him, he needed everything he could get.  
But the Godswood also had two other gifts for Jon whilst he was there. The first, was the smell of a flowers; The Blue Winter Rose. These always put his mind at ease, and was easily his favourite flower. The second, was the sound of music. It was peaceful, serene, heroic and yet sad all at the same time, as though multiple songs were being played simultaneously. He could’ve sworn the instrument used was a harp. But he didn’t know anyone who could play a harp. His father certainly couldn’t.   
His peaceful thoughts were soon interrupted though, as he sensed the presence of his direwolf, Ghost approaching him. He knew what had to be done next. He what was probably to become of him. But he wasn’t a craven. He was wolf of the North, a Stark in all but name. And he certainly won’t back down. Least at all to an oathbreaker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, another chapter for you guys. a considerably longer chapter, as a lot of your criticism was aimed at the length of the previous chapters, which is completely understandable. I hope you really enjoy this Chapter, and do tell if you liked the longer chapter.
> 
> as always, feedback and criticism is much appreciated, and please let me know if you like the direction of the story.  
> Comments, as usual, are always welcome.
> 
> P.S. Another thing that a few of you have asked me about is "Is this a Jonerys story?". The answer to that is yes. it won't be right away, as I've decided to continue this series for quite a while hopefully, but it will eventually happen. Thank you in advance for your patience and support.
> 
> Any Questions?


	5. Fight Night

It was now or never. The time had arrived. The time to fight. 

Ser Jaime Lannister had arrived first, swinging his sword around, getting ready for the upcoming bout. He looked miserable. Not the look you’d expect on a knight who was almost assured a victory. How else would his duel against the Bastard go?

The crowd cheered and applauded for him, so he decided he would indulge them for a little bit, even his heart wasn’t in it at all. He gave them his signature ‘Lannister Grin’, which the crowd seemed to eat up, cheering even louder than before, if that was at all possible.

This kept going as he looked at the King and the rest of the royal family, giving cheeky winks to his niece Myrcella and nephew Tommen. Joffrey didn’t seem interested in the whole thing, though that would change when the fight began. ‘He was always a sadistic little fucker’ Jaime thought dryly. 

Afterwards, Jaime turned towards the Starks and his smile was gone. Instead of smiling, his eyes were pleading, silently begging for their forgiveness for whatever may happen during the duel. Everyone was worried, Lord Stark especially. If anything, he was petrified. He kept glancing towards the royal family, then quickly averting his gaze back to Jaime.

“What in Seven Hells is going on?” He thought to himself

The crowd, which was once cheering maniacally, suddenly went silent. Walking towards the training yard was Jon Snow, who seemed as uncomfortable as Jaime was, for good reason. For 14 years of his life, he was ignored by almost everyone. Now, all eyes were on him. Jaime couldn’t help but feel pity for the young boy. 

*

 

Jon looked around, obviously uncomfortable at all the attention he was getting. His eyes darted everywhere, to the stand where the Royal family was, to where his family was and the small folk in between. It wasn’t easy, him being the centre of attention. If there was a time for Jon to fuck everything up, now was it. “Deep breathes Jon, deep breathes. Soon, you’ll be back in the Godswood, and you can relax. Listen to the mysterious music and enjoy the scent of the Blue Winter Roses. 

Jon’s gaze returned to the Royal Stands, gazing up the family with more interest. The Queen whilst extremely beautiful, had this smirk on her face. A smirk that took away almost all of her beauty. The King was fat. Very, very fat. Then there were the children. The eldest, Joffrey, had the exact same smirk his mother had. Jon could tell that he may be a problem in the future. 

Then, he saw the youngest Baratheon, Tommen. He was around Bran’s age and he seemed to have the same inspirations as his brother. Tommen was in awe of the small spectacle that was about to commence soon. He looked as though he wanted to become a knight as well, looking everywhere for information he may or may not use later on in his life.

Lastly there was the princess. She definitely took after her mother, for she was extremely beautiful. Instead of having this smirk on her face, she instead was wearing this shy little smile, which only enhanced her beauty. But why is she shy? At first Jon thought she was looking at her Uncle, Jaime Lannister, but then realised she was looking towards his direction. He turned around, thinking there was someone behind him who held her attention. There was no one, so when Jon turned around to face her again, her smile grew even bigger. “She’s smiling at me” he acknowledged to himself. “I must be one lucky bastard.”

All those thoughts were soon quelled when the King stood up. Jon knew what was going to happen next. Jaime knew as well. As did everyone else in the crowd. Now was the time. To fight. To survive. To prove that Jon Snow wasn’t going to back down. To hopefully prove he was worthy of something. What that something was, Jon had no idea. But he decided he would worry about that later, when he was in the Godswood. He would find peace later. Now was the time for violence.

King Robert finally spoke, his loud booming voice clear as day for all to hear. “Today we shall see who will triumph between the Lion of Casterly Rock and the Direwolf of Winterfell. Let the fight begin!!!”

Jon and Jaime didn’t start immediately. Instead the circled each other, staring one another down. Then Jon made the first move, which to the surprise of everyone in attendance, wasn’t to attack. Instead, he moved towards Jaime and in a show of respect which no doubt shocked many people in the crow due to his Bastard heritage, held out his hand to Ser Jaime. This was to show that there was no bad blood between the two. That what occurred in this yard stayed in the yard. That they were both equals. Jaime took Jon up on his offer, grasping his hand firmly, with a look of slight despair in his eyes and said in his most sincerest voice “may the best man win”.

Afterwards, they drew apart, still within swords reach and continued to circle each other. Then, like their minds were connected together, they both went in for the attack. 

*

The fight was brutal. Fists meeting faces, knees meeting stomachs and flesh meeting steel. Without a doubt, Jaime Lannister was the better swordsman of the two, but Jon held his own quite well. For every three strikes Jaime inflicted upon Jon, he would only receive one. But they still hurt. How this boy of 4 and 10 had managed to survive so many slashes was baffling to everyone. Everyone except Ned Stark. Jon had wolfblood, that was now apparent, exactly like his mother before. It would take Death to stop him. The fact that he also had the blood of the dragon as well, well that just spurred him on further. But Jon didn’t know that. No one did.

Everyone gasped as Jaime swiped at Jon’s head, with the intended target only just able to duck out of harms way. Jon could’ve sworn he felt his hair being cut. He’d check later. For know, he was having his own problems. Every so often, he’d blink, and be in a different place. A place he recognised as the Trident. And instead of Jaime Lannister being in front of him, it was actually a man clad in stag armour. When he looked down, he saw himself wearing armour that was encrusted with red rubies. Then he’d be back in Winterfell. He had no idea what was going on. He only knew that he had to survive.

Jon parried another strike from Jaime, ducking and rolling away. He thought he was successful, but realised that wasn’t the case when he felt Ser Jaime’s blade make its way down his back. The pain was unbearable. Jon turned around and deflected another attack from Jaime, but was then hit by his sword right above his eye opening a crescent shaped scar from which blood poured down, obscuring his vision. He closed his eyes again. When he opened them, he was back wearing Ruby Armor. The human Stag swung his sword, but Jon effortlessly deflected it. This kept going on and on and on until finally the man spoke with a voice that Jon instantly recognised as Robert Baratheon. “She was my betrothed! I loved her and you stole her from me!!! Where is she Dragonspawn?!

Jon suddenly felt himself speaking, but it wasn’t his voice. It was a complete strangers and he was eerily calm, considering he was in battle. “She doesn’t love you Robert. She never has and never will. You say you love her, but that ‘love’ you apparently had for her didn’t stop you from fathering a bastard. Even before marriage, you dishonoured her.” Then Jon was on the offensive this time, striking furiously but at the same with such finesse, it was like he was snake, darting towards his prey.

Just as Jon was about to land a killing strike on Robert Baratheon, he suddenly heard a woman’s scream. He knew the type. He had heard it many times when Lady Stark was giving birth. This brought Jon back into the present, back to Winterfell. Just in time to see Ser Jaime rise his sword and bring it down, slashing across his face.

*

The whole yard was in shock. The fight had been going on for a while and both men were bloody. Jon Snow even more so. He had gashes across his chest, his arms and legs, as well as his back. But the thing that shocked everyone was the one on his face. As Jon rose up, weak, exhausted and in excruciating pain, he was helped by Jaime Lannister, who was sincere in his actions. Everyone in the crowd gasped and screamed as they set their eyes upon Jon’s face. 

It had a massive gash, spanning from the top of his right eye all the way to the bottom of his left cheek. Almost his whole face was covered in blood, and it was pouring of his face and into the mud below. 

Everyone was shocked that a boy could survive such a wound, let alone an actual fight with Jaime Lannister. Jon’s fleeing strength finally left him and he would’ve collapsed again into the mud if it weren’t for Ser Jaime. Jon was drifting in and out of consciousness. All he could hear was a woman screaming. The same one from before. And then he heard the words just after he passed out.

“His name is Aegon Targaryen. Promise me Ned. You have to protect him. Promise me”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys, another chapter for you guys, which I also believe is my longest one yet. Let me know what you thought of the chapter, and whether you liked the length of it.
> 
> Feedback is really appreciated and if you have any questions regarding this chapter, please feel free to ask me. That's why I'm here.
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy and have fun. (Remember to comment)


	6. Westeros' Best Kept Secret

6 days had past since the fight. It was now dubbed ‘The Battle of The Bastard’, due to Jon Snow’s incredible swordsmanship and resilience throughout said battle. Now it was time for Jon to recuperate his wounds, for which he had many. His body was littered with wounds, as though he had a whole army’s worth. Long, deep gashes adorned his arms, back and chest. They were deep enough to scar terribly, yet not as deep as to put Jon down forever. Only a knife in the heart could do that. It was rare to see a piece of his upper body untainted by the battle. Then there was his face. 

He had several scars across his face, again more souvenirs from Jaime Lannister. Jon chuckled to himself, wondering how Ser Jaime felt with his own ‘little presents’. His face was quite different to the rest of his scarred body. Yes, he had scars, but he didn’t have many of them. Unfortunately, what he lacked in quantity, he certainly made up for in severity. He had one deep scar across his eye in the form of a crescent, as though someone had taken a moon, broken it in half and shoved it into his face. The other, more severe scar he had was across the whole of his face. Going from the top left eye, cutting across it, it was a miracle he hadn’t lost the eye, all the way down past the bridge of his nose, then across his cheek. How his head hadn’t been carved in half was anyone’s guess. He was not only a bastard, but now he was a disfigured bastard. That’s what the people hate the most. Bastards, Cripples and Broken Things. And Jon was at least two of the three. Lucky him. 

What startled the stark family the most was that Jon hadn’t woken up since the fight. They knew he was fine and healthy, as they trusted Maester Luwin with their lives. Well, as healthy as can be considering the circumstances. No, what worried them the most was the wait. They had been waiting for almost a sennight, for some sign, any sign at all, that Jon would rise from his catatonic state. There had been no such luck. He had many visitors. The Starks were the most common. They all came together, led by their father, Ned. And they all left together. All except one. Everyone else who visited Jon was shocked by who sat his bedside, day in and day out. They were shocked at this persons behaviour towards him. But then again, Catelyn Stark was known to shock many people with her actions. Some people believe her capable of even starting a war, however absurd that may sound. 

As Catelyn sat by his bedside, with Ghost at her flank, she heard a series of knocks on Jon’s door. “Enter” she said, simply expecting one of her children to come around to say goodnight to their sleeping brother. “No, not brother. Not even half brother. Not anymore” Catelyn thought to herself. Instead of another Stark, the person who walked past her door was the last person she expected: Jaime Lannister. 

“My Lady, how is he?” He asked earnestly. 

“About as well as one can be expected, after suffering such severe wounds.” She replied curtly.

“I know, the wounds on his face are quite severe”

“It’s not just the wounds on his face.”

“My lady, what are you referring to …”

Without warning or sound of any kind, Catelyn Stood up quickly, grabbing the furs that covered Jon’s scar riddled body. “This is what I’m bloody well referring, Ser Jaime.” She said his name with a sneer. With that, she pulled the furs away, revealing Jon’s mangled body.

The effect it had on Jaime was unexpected. His usually smug face instead turned pale and bland, as though he himself were a man brought back from the dead. “Seven hells” he managed to gasp. Normally, Jaime would be proud to see the damage he had inflicted upon an opponent. Now, he only felt shame and disgust. “I’m sorry. For what I’ve done. For what I’ve put your family through” he said

“Yet you’re not sorry for what you’ve put him through? We’re not the ones with scars covering every single inch of our bodies! We’re not the ones who hasn’t woken up since this whole ideal. 6 days. 6 days since that damn fight. The last time I saw him like this was when he was but a babe, with fever. He was defenceless then. And he’s defenceless now!” She said with unbridled fury. Then, her calm mask returned, speaking in a voice that was expected of a Lady of a great house. “I want you to leave. It should’ve been you.” 

“My Lady, I…” he was again interrupted. Only this time it wasn’t by Lady Stark, or any other human for that matter. Ghost, who had been silent throughout the whole encounter, was suddenly standing, teeth barred, snarling at the Kingslayer. Ser Jaime knew he’d be able to take Lady Stark on, no problem. But a direwolf pup, that was already the size of a large dog? That was something he knew was an easy ticket to an early grave, so he left the room, but not before noticing the winter rose that was attached to his door. 

*

The battle had certainly taken its toll on Jon. For 6 straight he did nothing but sleep. This was aided by the smell of Blue Winter Roses and sound of music from a harp. He thought he was in heaven, or wherever a bastard is allowed to go after death. It was great at first. Peaceful even. But then it became worse. He started having visions. Visions he had seen before, but in even more vivid detail. He had actually been in the tower, the same tower he heard a woman screaming in childbirth. He smelt the blood, certain that whoever this woman was, whoever she may be, she didn’t have long. Then suddenly, he was transported to The Trident. It was the same place he saw in his vision whilst fighting Ser Jaime. Only this time he wasn’t staring at a man clad in Stag armour. This time he was staring at a man clad in onyx Armor, with a symbol of a three headed dragon, adorned with red rubies. Or whatever was left of them, as the mans chest was bashed in, making a mess of bone and flesh. Jon couldn’t tell which was which. 

Then he was somewhere he had never been before. A place that was hot. Really fucking hot. He was in some sort of palace. There was drinking, laughing, music that he’d never heard before. And fucking. Lots and lots of fucking. Jon blushed, seeing that the people in question were fornicating for all to see, no shame or embarrassment on their faces. Just pleasure, excitement and happiness. Then came the violence. Two men decided they wanted the same woman, so they decided to fight for her, to the death. It ended when one of the men had their stomach cut open, letting their internal organs spill free onto the white marble floor.

 

This must’ve been some kind of wedding, as there were two people who were overlooking everything, perched upon so many cushions, almost giving off the impression that they were on a throne. The man was very noticeable. To say he was big would’ve been an absolute understatement. Jon knew his body was well formed, with muscles adoring it like some form of Armour, but compared to this hulk of a man, he may have well been a twig. Jon knew he needed to get bigger, eat more and train harder. He didn’t like losing, anything for that matter. 

The other person seemed familiar, but Jon couldn’t place where he had recognised her from. She was beautiful, as though she was an angel, who had her wings clipped and had fallen from the sky. Her silver hair and purple eyes almost had Jon in a trance. At first she was looking at the violence before her, visibly shocked and distressed at the sight. The man to her right, who must’ve been her husband, smiled with glee and uttered some words in a language he had never heard before. Then the young woman’s attention turned to a chest to her right, which contained stones. Three large stones, covered in what Jon thought looked scales. Who was this woman? What was she doing in a place that contained such violence and voyeurism? 

Then her gaze turned to him, or someone behind him at least. There was no way she could’ve known he was there. Jon didn’t even know where ‘there’ was. So Jon decided to move around the palace, attempting to avert her gaze. But with every step he took, she was still transfixed onto him, as though she was looking straight at him. Impossible. It was impossible. Yet as her violet eyes penetrated his own onyx ones, he knew something was happening. And as he was trying to wrap his mind around it, he suddenly did the worst thing imaginable at that time: he woke up.

*

Many moons ago, she would’ve enjoyed the sounds of agony that were being expelled from Jon Snows mouth. Now, however, she felt only sorrow. He had just woken up, and the first he did was wail in pure pain, his hands going to his left eye, resting over it, as though this would cause the pain to cease its efforts. It did not. 

Soon, the whole castle was filled with his cries of pain. Ned Stark was soon by his side, being able to do nothing but stay guard at his sons bedside.

After what seemed like hours, Jon finally became mute. His eyes were closed, but Ned knew he was awake. 

“I’m sorry Jon. I never should have let you fight. It was wrong of me to let a boy your age fight someone like the Kingslayer” Ned said with disgust.

Jon still had his eyes closed when he replied “it’s alright father. There’s nothing to forgive”

“There is. I promised your mother to keep you safe. Instead of actually doing what I promised, I did the exact opposite, putting you in harms way.”

Jon was listening to his father. This was the first time he had spoken of his mother of such a way. He wanted to know more about her, so he opened his eyes. The gasp from his father was something Jon did not expect at all. 

“Father, what is it?”

“Can you see me?” 

“Yes of course I can. Father, what’s happening? You’re worrying me.”

“Close your left eye” Ned simply said. With reluctance, and some annoyance, Jon did just that. “Can you see me?” 

“Yes father, I can”

“Now your other one. Close your right eye.”

“Father, I can still see you.” 

Ned didn’t know what to do. For 14 years he had been able to keep the most dangerous secret in the history of Westeros. Now this secret was out in the open. Ned didn’t know what to say to Jon. Or even how to say it. So he simply stood up, went over to Jon’s drawer and picked up a mirror, before returning back to the bed. 

“Here. Look into this.” Lord Stark said, with sadness and guilt riddling his voice.

Jon warily took the mirror from his father and placed in front of his face. He looked into it, expecting to see two onyx eyes staring back at him. There was only one. The shock caused him to drop the mirror to the floor, smashing into pieces. 

Before the fight Jon had two Onyx coloured eyes. Now he only had one. He hadn’t lost the eye, that much was obvious, as he could still out of both of them. No instead of two Onyx eyes, he only had one. The other had been replaced. 

 

By a deep purple one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the extremely long wait for this chapter. It was meant to be out last Friday, but unfortunately I had a family tragedy that kept me from uploading. Again, I'm really sorry for the late update, I know I've been slacking off a bit. Ill try and fix that for you guys.
> 
> Anyhoo, hoped you like the chapter, it was a blast to write. If you guys have any questions, or just wanna say hey, please do so in the comments section. It really makes me feel as though I'm doing the right thing. (Kudos aren't bad either, Wink Wink)
> 
> Have a good one folks and please enjoy. Till the next time.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so so so so so sorry for not uploading this chapter earlier. Please forgive me?

Jon’s awakening should’ve been a blessing. It should’ve been a gift from the Gods. Instead, it was a curse. It wasn’t hard to find the reason why that was.

“Who am I?”

“You’re my son”

“Don’t… don’t lie to me. Please don’t lie to me. Not now. Not after everything I’ve been through.”

“Jon, I promise you, by the Old Gods and the New, you are my son.”

“Then what are you afraid of? Hmm? Why have you ordered Measter Luwin to cover half my head in a bandage? Are you afraid that this might get out?” 

“No, of course not. Your eye hasn’t healed properly. That’s why you are bandaged. So you can get better.”

This conversation was getting boring. The same lies over and over again.   
‘Jon, you’re my son.’   
‘Jon, your eye hasn’t healed properly.’   
‘Jon, you’re still a bastard.’  
Jon wanted answers. And he knew exactly what to ask.

“Who is Aegon Targaryen? And why did a dying woman want you to protect him?

The colour from Ned’s face suddenly drained away. It was as though he was a ghost.

“How… How do you know about that? Who told you? Did somebody tell you?”

“No Father.” Jon said with a hint of disdain. “I saw it in a vision. When I was sleeping. I also dreamt that I was at the Trident, during Robert’s Rebellion.” Jon voice became desperate now. “Why would I dream these things?” WHO AM I?!”

Ned now only had one option. An option he thought he’d never be faced with. He had to reveal the truth. If he didn’t, he knew he would lose his son…

“The woman in your visions was my.. my sister Lyanna. Aegon Targaryen was her son. That’s why she asked me to protect him. If her betrothed, King Robert, found out, he would’ve murdered the child himself, almost like what happened in the Red Keep.”

“But Aegon was killed. It was said his head was smashed against the wall, and his sister Rheanys was stabbed nigh a hundred times. How could aunt Lyanna want you to protect a child that was already dead? And wasn’t Aegon Prince Rhaegars son? And Princess Elia’s as well?”

Despite the situation, Ned was proud of Jon. He knew the tale wouldn’t make sense, and Jon picked up on it.

“Prince Rhaegar had three children. Two Sons and one daughter. Two of his children was with Princess Elia of Dorene, you’re right. But he also had a third child with Lyanna. Though he never got to meet his son, for he died during the Battle Of The Trident. He died-“

“Fighting Robert Baratheon. Robert was angry that Rhaegar and kidnapped Aunt Lyanna. He vowed to kill all Dragonspawn, no matter what they may or may not have done. Is that that why Robert ordered Prince Rhaegars children to be executed?”

“Yes. So you’ve been dreaming about my sister, Lyanna and Prince Rhaegar. What else?”

“Every time I have one of those visions, I can always smell Blue Winter Roses and I can hear someone playing the Harp. Always, both at the same time. Why?” Jon asked.

“Because you have been dreaming about your parents” Ned said solemnly.

“My parents? What do you mea-“ Realisation suddenly dawned on Jon’s face. “Lyanna and Rhaegar. They’re my parents?”

“Yes.”

Jon had heard enough. His head was swimming, he felt as though he was about to throw up. He could only do one thing: Run. So he got up from his bed, ran out his door and towards the stables, all the while his father… No, his uncle, was shouting at him to stop, to come back. But he couldn’t. Not now. Not after everything that had just been revealed.

He saddled his horse, mounted it, then sped off towards the gates of Winterfell. He was in such a state that he couldn’t hear anything. Just as he was about to go through the gates, he saw two children playing about, being watched by an older man who shared their looks: golden blonde hair and Cat-Green eyes. He suddenly realised who it was, locking eyes, or in Jon’s case eye with Jaime Lannister. Then, he was gone, outside of Winterfell’s constricting grip. He was finally able to breathe again. He thought he was alone, until he saw something white following him, beside his horse, keeping up with the great beast.

*

“Uncle Jaime, who was that?” young Tommen Baratheon asked. 

Before Jaime could reply however, Joffrey decided he would answer the question.

“That, little brother, was The Bastard of Winterfell, tucking tail and riding off wherever the rest of his kind flee. All bastards are the same.”

“He’s not like all bastards” a feminine voice said. Jaime, Tommen and Joffrey all turned around to see Myrcella approaching them.

“He’s a Bastard, sweet sister, none of them have honour. They’re all cravens. Cowards. They’d rather flee than do anything else.” Joffrey continued. Jaime had had enough. They knew nothing of this Jon Snow. The only person speaking an ounce of sense was Myrcella.

“Jon Snow is no Craven. If he was such a thing, he wouldn’t have entered the pit with me. If he were such a thing, he would’ve yielded to me before the first strike of our blades, maybe even after the first few. No, that boy is no coward, Joffrey. He reminds of someone. Two people actually. A lot.”

“Oh, and who’s this? No doubt two other bastards” Joffrey sniggered.

Jaime couldn’t help but role his eyes and mentally sigh. “The first was The Sword of The Morning, Ser Arthur Dayne.” Jaime said simply. 

“And the second, dear uncle?” Joffrey replied.

“Rhaegar Targaryen.”

This made Joffrey roar with laughter, a very uncomfortable sound that made everyone cringe.

“How can that bastard remind you of Ser Arthur Dayne and Rhaegar Targaryen? He’s a bastard. It was pure luck that he lasted as long as he did against you. It would’ve been more enjoyable had your strike against his face actually killed him. Someone should put the poor boy out of his misery.” Joffrey said with his sing nature sneer.

“Well I for one like Jon Snow. From what I can see, he’s strong, kind and intelligent. I don’t know why people think bastards aim to bring their Houses to ruin. If anything, he wants to make his greater.” Myrcella stated.

Jaime couldn’t help but smile at that statement. Myrcella had certainly inherited her mothers tenacity. Unlike her mother, however, she could see through people’s actions, see whether or not they were a true person.

“Myrcella, Tommen, how about I fetch some more guards and we go for a ride outside Winterfell?” Jaime asked.

This was met by cheers of approval from both children. The laughter died down as they all felt the presence of someone approaching.

“What are you too so happy about?” Asked Cersei Lannister, with a genuine smile on her face?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Yes, it ends on another cliffhanger (is it actually a cliffhanger?) but I hope you like it nonetheless.
> 
> Thank you for your time and patience regarding me and the uploading of chapters to the series.
> 
> I absolutely cannot wait to see what you have to say about this chapter in the comments. Your support for this has been absolutely phenomenal, and I really appreciate it.


	8. Chapter 8

“Oh hello mother, Uncle Jaime was just suggesting that he would accompany Tommen and myself for a ride out in the woods” Myrcella said sweetly.

“Oh he did, did he?” Cersei replied, looking at her brother with a small smile.

“I did Your Grace. I thought it would be good for the children to get out and about” he said, whilst looking Tommen and Myrcella. “Would you care to join us?” He asked with his trademark grin.

“Me, riding a horse? In these savage lands, beset by Northern barbarians and Wildling Savages? I don’t think so, Dearest brother.”

“Oh but mother, it’ll be fun. Just you, me, Myr and Uncle Jaime. Please Mother, oh please?” Tommen begged. His mother looked at him with slight admonishment on her face, but in the end her features gave way to a lovely smile, unable to deny her youngest son.

“Ok my little prince, but we’ll need to take extra guards, just to be safe.” Cersei stated. The looks on Tommen and Myrcella’s face was picturesque. After they had acquired the appropriate amount of guards for the Royal Family, they were just about to leave when they saw none of than Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North, with the leader of the Stark household guard Ser Jory Cassel, saddling their horses and making their way towards the gates.

“Lord Stark” Jaime addressed the Warden, “Would you care to join my myself, the Queen and the children on a ride through the Wolfswood?” He asked.

Lord Stark considered the offer for a moment, before finally replying. “As tempting as the offer is, I’m afraid I must decline. Ser Jory and I have… urgent matters that we need to see resolved immediately.”

“What’s happens Lord Stark?” Jaime asked.

“Nothing you need to worry over “Ser Jaime” Lord Stark replied, with very carefully hidden anger in his eyes. Hidden to everyone but Ser Jaime that is. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m afraid we must be…”

“Are you looking for Jon?” Myrcella asked innocently. “He rode past us in a hurry, him and and his Dying-Wolf, no that’s it, his Dayer-Wolf? No, not that either. His Direwolf! That’s it, he rode past us on horseback with his Direwolf by his side. He seemed to be in a hurry.” 

“Ghost was with him? You’re absolutely certain?” Lord Stark asked. 

“Yes my Lord… Uncle Jaime, can we help look for him? We were going for a ride anyway, why not do so with the Warden of The North?” Myrcella suggested, though it sounded more of a statement rather than anything else.

“If the Queen decides it is safe enough for you two to ride alongside side us, then you may accompany me.” Lord Stark declared.

A wave of uncertainty flashed across the queens features. She hadn’t anticipated this day at all. First she was being lovingly dragged into a ride with her two youngest children, and now she and her party were riding with the Lord of Winterfell himself. “Very well Lord Stark” she stated “I believe we are in quite capable hands. You know these lands better any of us.” This garnered a small laugh from Ned. “That I do, your Grace.” He chuckled.

 

*

 

Jon Snow was very confused. He was confused when he was fighting Jaime Lannister. He was confused when he was recuperating in his room. He was especially confused when he confronted his father with his visions. ‘Damnit Jon, he’s not you’re fucking father. Your REAL father died 14 years ago. As did your mother.’ SEVEN HELLS! “So Ghost, lets recap, shall we?” He said to his trusted Direwolf companion, who in turn twisted his head, ready to his masters speech. “I just found that my aunt is actually my mother, that my ‘Father’ is actually my uncle, my siblings are actually my cousins and I’m Trueborn, not baseborn. I know right? So many surprises. I swear Ghost, if you suddenly reveal yourself to be a Shadowcat, I’m not going to be happy with you.” This caused Ghost to bark at him in playful annoyance. “Whatever, you won’t hurt me. Big softy.” This seemed to spur the Direwolf to jump at Jon, knocking him down and just sitting on him, completely covering his master. “Alright, alright. Enough of that. Ghost…”. Whilst before Ghost may have been playful and vocal, now, he was following his namesake: quiet as a ghost. Jon knew something was off. He felt it, through some sort of connection with his Direwolf. “What is it boy? What’s happening?” And just like that Ghost shot off, with Jon barely having enough time to get on his horse and follow. He had no idea where he was going, just following. He kept going and going and going. Until he heard the screams. 

The sound of a woman screaming, in despair. That’s when he saw them. The Queen of The Seven Kingdoms, Cersei Lannister, held onto by a large man. The Lannister guardsmen that were supposed to protect the Queen, dead. All of them dead. The two children, Tommen and Myrcella, cowering behind their uncle Jaime. His father, no Uncle, lying on the ground with a spear and several arrows in his left leg. Jory Cassel dead, with a stone dirk shoved through his eye. All this carnage… All this bloodshed. He had heard rumours of attacks like these. More reports than rumours. But he didn’t expect to see them firsthand. He knew who the large man holding the Queen was. The man wasn’t alone. The surviving group were surround by no more than a dozen and a half other men. Men with makeshift weaponry. Men who wore clothes made out of furs. 

“Wildlings” Jon whispered to himself, in total disbelief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, first and foremost I am so extremely sorry for the late update to this series. It's not that I haven't wanted to continue with it, it's just that I couldn't come up with anything to write. Writers Block is a total bitch. 
> 
> Anyway, another chapter here for you guys. I really hope you like it, and be on the lookout for the next chapter soon. I promise it'll be out before February rolls around. 
> 
> Also, spoiler alert, next chapter, Jon gets down and dirty. Very dirty. Very BLOODY dirty.
> 
> If you guys have any questions regarding the series or chapter in general, please feel free to ask. I love reading and answering the questions you guys leave me.
> 
> Till the next time Chaps (Sorry, one of my British mannerisms)


	9. First Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned, this Chapter contains graphic depictions of violence. It's all throughout.
> 
> Also, despite what the tag says, there is no RAPE whatsoever. None at all. Rape isn't something that'll be a part of this story. So don't worry about any uncomfortable scenes, it's just the violence.

18 wildlings surrounded the survivors of the riding party. Queen Cersei, Prince Tommen, Princess Myrcella and Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsgaurd. Out of 30 people, that’s all that remained. A large willing was behind the Queen, holding her, ripping her dress open and groping at her exposed flesh. Another wildling, just as large swung a club at Ser Jaime, which connected with his head, knocking the disgraced knight out. This left the two children alone and vulnerable. The wildling pushed Tommen aside, focusing on Myrcella. Pushing her backwards, she fell on her back, completely exposed. Jon watched on in horror and disgust, with Ghost by his side, as the large Wildling man started walking towards her very slowly, whilst at the same time fiddling with the string on his fur breeches. As he stopped right in front of Princess Myrcella, his intentions clear, he pushed his breeches down, smiling at the horrified young girl, whilst at the same her Mother the Queen was watching, screaming hysterically, begging for someone to help. And help someone did. “Ghost, go teach that man some manners” Jon said. 

As quick as lightning, Ghost rushed forward, making a beeline for the wildling and his exposed manhood. And when he reached the man, he did teach the man some manners, by way of sinking his teeth into the mans groin, and pressing down hard. The man let out what was possibly the highest sounding scream Jon had ever heard, certainly not a sound you’d expect to hear coming from a man that size. But that didn’t deter Ghost. In fact it only spurred the Direwolf on. Ghost let go, allowing the man to sink to his knees whilst desperately attempting to stop the bleeding that was coming from in between his legs. Blood covered the mans hands in copious amounts, and Ghost decided enough was enough, lunging forward to grab the mans throats in his jaws and yanking his head backwards, tearing his throat out and causing blood to spurt everywhere. The other wildlings looked on in fear at the beast before them. They weren’t expecting this. And they definitely weren’t expecting the young boy that rushed to the wolfs side, sword drawn and ready for blood. Well, more blood that is.

“Ghost, protect the children.” Ghost growled in response, walking towards the fear stricken children, standing in front of them, daring anyone to come for them. Meanwhile, the wildling that had the Queen suddenly discarded her, drawing his makeshift battle axe and swinging it towards Jon. Just as it was about to connect with his chest, Jon deflected the blow, catching his opponent off guard, long enough for Jon to slice his sword upwards across the wildlings fur covered chest, and then another clean cut through his neck, quickly decapitating the man. Another one went towards the children and Queen, who had joined her children, but Ghost was too quick, grabbing the mans ankle with his jaws and crushing it, so that all that was left of the bones were dust. This caused the man to fall on his back, where Jon proceeded to drive his sword through the mans heart. 

“Ghost, get them out of here. Now!! Your Grace, you and your children need to leave, right now. You two, get on him, grab his fur and hold tightly. You’ll be fine, I promi-“ Jon didn’t get to finish the sentence, as he was swarmed by another 8 men. Two down, 16 to go. Two men lunged for him, but Jon was two quick, easily parrying their attacks. He swung his sword across one mans neck, slicing it open, and to the other, he drove the tip of his sword downwards, into his foot, keeping him in place like a tent peg. The wildling wouldn’t give up without a fight though, as he grabbed Jon by the throat, and started hitting him across the face. Hit after hit after hit connected, and eventually, Jon was all bloody, lips busted open, eye cracked open. His face was covered in blood. And so was his mouth. He spat all the blood that was in his mouth towards the wildling, blinding him just long enough for him to let go, allowing Jon to grab his dagger from his back and shove it through his ribs. He withdrew the blade, and thrust it forward once more, and again and again and again. 

He was exhausted, heaving, trying to get breathe back into his lungs before he stood up. He had killed 4 men. 4 wildlings who were massive. And he was still alive. Bloody, but alive. He looked around at the remaking men, all who had looks of surprise and admiration on their faces. This grated Jon the wrong way. “Why are you all smiling?! If you’re gonna kill me, the fucking KILL ME!!!” He shouted. “Oh we don’t want to kill you boy.” One wildling said. This wilding was grinning as well. Tall, well built and hair that looked as though it was kissed fire. “Well, maybe he does” he said again, pointing in the direction of another large man. He was twice as large as the other men Jon just fought. “And why does he want me dead?” Jon dared to ask. “Because you killed his brother. The one who had his cock bitten off by that great big bloody beast of yours.” The red headed wildling said.

“He shouldn’t have made advances towards a young girl then. Punishment for rape is castration.” Jon replied. The larger man kept walking towards Jon, but stopped briefly when he he heard a growl coming from Jon’s side.  
He turned to look, seeing Ghost, the children, the Queen Ser Jaime and his father all together, looking on. 

“You killed my brother, you fucking maiden! Now you have to deal with me. Nobody fucks with Raam!!!! After I kill you, I’ll take that girl and fuck her bloody… won’t be able to stop me then, will you, you cunt.” 

“Oh shit” was all Jon managed to say before Raam had grabbed him by his furs. Jon felt as though he weighed absolutely nothing, before that feeling left him as he came crashing down to the snow covered ground. It didn’t soften his fall whatsoever. If anything, it made things worse. Large fists collided with his ribs, one after another, going on for what seemed like eternity. After the first three, Jon felt something crack. He wasn’t an idiot to, he knew what had happened. That and the fact he scarcely breathe now. Then Raam’s fist collided with his face. His bloody, already beaten face took another savage beating. Jon was drifting in and out of consciousness, light then darkness, unable to fully comprehend where he was exactly. That was until he heard the panicked screams of children and the pointless threats of a mother lion.

Jon looked up to see Raam walking towards the group. Ned Stark was in no position to fight, and this was proven true when he was effortlessly knocked aside, clutching at his leg. Ser Jaime was about to make a last stand, but was grabbed by the threat, lifted upwards and subsequently choke-slammed back down again.

Raam walked towards the Queen and her cubs, with a glint in his eyes. Jon, get up. Get yourself the fuck up. You’re all that’s standing. Get up now!!!! And determined by his voices within his head, Jon rose, like a man back from the dead. Jon started running towards Raam just as the large man started speaking again. “ I told you once I killed that cunt I’d fuck your little girl bloody. Come here – AAHHHHHHHHH!!!” Cersei and the children were bewildered, having no idea what was happening to the man as he kept screaming and screaming, whilst also trying to grab something behind his neck. On and on and on he kept screaming, until he finally turned around, they saw what was causing this almost giant of man such agonising pain: Jon Snow, on Raam’s shoulders, driving his dagger down in between the exposed spot in between the neck and shoulder. Again. And again. And again. “I’m not dead you big fucker” Jon said calmly, given the situation and proceeded to grab his dagger upwards, leaving the sweet spot, but instead of shoving it down again, he twisted it, driving it right through the mans ear right into his brain. Now, Jon was no Maester by any means, but even he knew this would cause a few hearing problems later on. If he survived the wound that is. 

The man collapsed forward, bringing Jon down with him, which caused him to grunt in pain as his ribs took most of the impact. By this time Jon was wheezing, finding it extremely difficult t breathe. But as he looked over to the remaining survivors of the slaughtered expedition, he knew he could rest just yet. Even though he fucking well deserved it. “Ghost, run buck Winterfell. Now. Start trouble, as long as it gets people’s attention. Prince, Princess, get on him. Actually do it this time. Grab hold tightly, cause he’ll be fast.” He watched as they both climbed on, doing as they were told. “Good boy Ghost. I’m proud of you.” And just like that, his Direwolf was off, darting between the trees, with Jon hoping he’d get there soon, so that the Royal Children didn’t die of Hypothermia. He turned towards his father, Ser Jaime and the Queen. Ser Jaime was able to stand, as was the Queen. But Lord Stark wasn’t. “Ser Jaime, I know these woods well. There’s a cave a little bit north of here. It’s warm, and it’ll keep us safe. I’m strong, but in my condition, I’m not able to carry my father. Would you be able to help him? Whilst I get the Queen?” Jon asked. “Of course, Ser Jon.” Jaime replied, with a sincere smile this time. “ Don’t mock me. Not after the day I’ve just had.” 

“He wasn’t.” Said the Queen. For what you did here, protecting me and my family, I’ll be damned if my husband doesn’t knight you.”

Jon turned to look at her, but suddenly shied away, seeing her exposed breasts out in the open. This seemed to amuse the Queen considerably. “Tell me boy, are you still a maiden?” She asked in jest. Jon didn’t know how to reply. Well of course he knew how to reply, he just couldn’t get the words out. “Your Grace, you’ll be freezing. Here take this.” He said as he took off his furred tunic, large enough for it to cover her exposed chest. Only this left his body exposed, and the Queen gasped in visible shock. By this time, Ser Jaime and lord Stark were a bit ahead, unaware of the conversation currently happening. As Cersei’s eyes roamed over his scarred, exposed flesh, he noticed something in her face. Anger. Fear. And no, it couldn’t be… gods forbid. Lust? But then she looked him straight in the eyes and stood still. Shocked was an understatement. Her own eyes widened, unable to comprehend what she was seeing in front of her. That eye. She’s only seen eyes that colour once before. When she pined over him. When she thought she would marry him, and have his children. 

“You’re Rhaegars son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A much faster turn out pace this time. This is my first big fight scene, and I really hoped it turned out well, and that you guys liked. Cause that's why I'm doing it. 
> 
> Also, a few people have been asking me when Jonerys will appear. They won't be appear right next to each other any time soon, but they'll continue to have visions of each other. In fact the next chapter in this series is going to be from Daenerys' point of view, so look forward to that. That may be a slightly shorter chapter, as I've ever written from her perspective before. Also Jonerys will be the end goal. This means that Jon and Dany will have romantic engagements with other people, but once they meet each other, that's it.
> 
> Anyway, I really hope you like the chapter, and please leave any feedback. I love reading the comments. I always get a tingly feeling every time I see a notification after someone has commented. I know. I'm weird. Leave me alone. JK JK JK


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't actually a new chapter. Just an update. Sorry if this seems like click bait. It's really not meant to be.

Hey guys and girls, Nick here. Yes that's my real name. Don't laugh. Few questions. Do you want a Cersei/Jon relationship? A lot of people have been asking for smut between the two, but I'm wandering if people would want that as well? Also, what do you want me do about Myrcella? It's obvious she's crushing big time on Jon. Should it remain like that, or should she tell someone. And no, don't say 'Tell Joffrey'. Why? Cause Joffrey's a cunt, that's why. Sorry for my French... aha. Also do you want Jon to go down south with the rest of the kings court, on their way back to kings landing? Ned is still gonna be hand of the king, so let me if you want Jon to travel south. And finally opinions/suggestions. If you guys have any suggestions, please let me know. Ive already started the new xhoster, but I am looking to see what you guys want. I read every single comment that's posted here, so please don't be afraid to suggest anything. I'll try my best to reply to every single one of you. Anyways, thank you so much for the support. It means a hella lot to me. The feedback and support I received from the last chapter is what spurred to me on to start the next chapter so soon. Thank you guys so much. I love you all.


	11. Rewards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A proper chapter this time.

“Here, take this. Take it, and cover your eye” the Queen said as she ripped off a generous amount of her dress. “Take it. Your Queen commands it. Reluctantly, Jon did as he was told. He had to admit, after applying the makeshift bandage, he felt surprisingly better. “Thank you, Your Grace.” He said, bowing, eyes focused on the floor. 

“After what you’ve just went through, to protect me and everyone here, I command you to stop being so damn respectful. It’s cute, at first, but after a while it just gets a tad annoying. When we are alone, you are to call me Cersei. Not your Grace, or My Queen, Cersei. Just Cersei.” She said.

“Are you expecting us to be alone often then, Cersei?” Jon questioned. 

“Mayhaps. Ooh, I bet you’re wandering what I have in mind.” She said, once again Jon noticing something in her eyes. Was it lust? Or was Jon just imagining things? The answer came to him when she brushed her hand not so subtly over his crotch. Jon was definitely not imaging things.

*

 

After Ghost had returned to the gates of Winterfell with two very distressed Royal Children on his back, people knew immediately that something was wrong. Within minutes of their arrival, The King, as well as Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy, Ser Rodrick Cassel and a small army of men rode out to find the survivors. Getting information from Tommen and Myrcella was difficult to say the least. They were as silent as the dead, but when they did speak, it was just long enough for them to start crying again over the past events. The only thing either of them said that made any sense whatsoever was ‘The Bastard of Winterfell saved us.’ And so, with a contingent of 100 Lannister guardsmen, as well 200 Stark men and the entirety of the Kingsgaurd, they set out, determined to find the survivors.

*

The search was surprisingly short, as the recuse was accompanied by two Direwolves: Ghost and Greywind. What would’v taken the rescue expedition possibly days at best to find them, the animals found them within an hour. Before they returned however, they went back to the scene of the brutal and bloody skirmish. The King roared with laughter, much to the unease of everyone around him. “5 men as big as The Hound, defeated by a boy of Four and Ten. Phahahaha. And what happened to this one boy? Where’s his cock?” Robert asked Jon. “Ghost tore it off, after he tried to rape your daughter.” He said bluntly, causing the King to stop in his pace and cease his laughter. Everywhere Jon looked, people were staring at him, Stark and Lannister alike, faces pale with the realisation of what actually happened in this part of the woods. When it became obvious that no one was going to add anything, Jon urged his horse forward, back towards Winterfell.

*

When Jon returned to Winterfell, he got a scolding from Maester Luwin. “You were an idiot Jon, an idiot. What caused you to run off like that in the first place? As if your wounds before weren’t bad enough. 17 broken ribs, broken nose in three places, and your eyes… your face will be covered with large scars. And for what? Because you were angry? Anger is never the answer Jon. Never. I’ll give you some milk if the poppy and leave you to rest. If I come back and find you have disappeared, yet again, I will personally break your legs for you.” The maester said cheerfully. “Give my father milk of The poppy. I don’t need it.” Jon said calmly. “You don’t need it? May I remind you of the injuries you have sustained?” 

“I know of my injuries. And I don’t need it. I don’t want it is more like.”

“Very well my lord, if you decide later on that you do in fact need it, do let me know.” The maester said as he got up to leave. Before exiting the room, he turned around and said “what you did today was very, very brave. Incredibly stupid, but brave nonetheless.” And with that, old Maester Luwin was gone.

“No need to tell me that I was stupid, you old codger” Jon whispered to himself, laughing at the man.

 

*

“Northern savages. This is why we never should have come here. I told you Mother, I told the North was home to barbarians and rapists.” Joffrey exclaimed. For the past few hours, whilst the castle was in uproar over what had happened, Cersei had to listen to her oldest child prattle on about complete and utter horseshit. “Well I’m glad Uncle Jaime was there. If he wasn’t, then I doubt you’d all be here.” He said with a grin on his face.

“Uncle Jaime wasn’t the one that saved us, Joff. He was protecting Tommen and Myrcella. He was, hurt, badly.” Cersei replied, fed up with his Joffrey’s constant whittling. “Then who rescued you? It certainly wasn’t the dog, no no sorry, wolf, Ned Stark. He had several arrows placed into him.”

“It was Jon.” Myrcella said quietly, barely above a whisper. 

“What? Speak up, I can’t hear you when you’re snivelling. Nothing even happened to you. You’re acting as though you’re a victim. Gods, why is it that all women are whiney little cunts.”

SLAP

“Don’t your DARE talk to your sister like that ever again. For your information, Joffrey, she was a victim, like everyone else who went out riding. She was almost raped. Do you hear that? Your 8 year old sister was almost defiled by a wildling. And do you know who saved her? Who saved me, your uncle and your little brother? Do you?!” Cersei spat.

All Joffrey could do was shake his head.

“A northern barbarian. A bastard as well. Men without honour they are called. Yet he risked his life trying to protect ours.”

“It seems to me like you want to spread your legs for this bastard.”

SLAP SLAP SLAP

“How dare you? Get out. GET OUT!”

Joffrey couldn’t get away sooner, looking as though he had no idea why he had just been slapped by his mother several times.

“I’m sorry Mother. I’m so sorry…” Myrcella started to stay before she burst out into tears. 

“Hush darling, why are you sorry? You haven’t done anything wrong.” 

“But I have.”

*

Lying around in bed was something Jon loathed doing. Not moving, not being able to swing a sword, not doing anything at all seemed like the worst form of torture for a boy like Jon. But out of it all, he just felt alone. Robb had been to see him. He tried to cheer Jon up, but after what Jon had been through today, there was nothing that could cheer him up.

After Robb had left, Jon’s mind went back to the battle. Christ, it’s not even a battle. A slaughter, a fucking bloodbath. And it was all me. I killed all those men. I… I sliced off that mans head… The thought caused Jon to retch up his entire meal he had just eaten, into the bucket that was conveniently placed by his beside by the old Maester. Seven Hells Jon, it wa gonna happen sooner or later. You were to join the Nights Watch, remember?

That’s when Jon had realised, had the Nights Watch been Informed of this attack? They won’t be able to do anything, but knowing that such a large Wildling band had managed it across the wall would prove useful for them. Jon tried to get out of bed, but winced as soon as his body moved. Daring to take a look, he pulled the furs covering his chest off and was quite surprised at what he saw: Bruises. Big, purple bruise, all along his chest. This couldn’t stop Jon though, he had to tell people what was happening. The Nights Watch must know.

Jon finally got out of bed, got dressed and started to head for his door, when it suddenly opened. Shit. “Maester Luwin, I’m sorry but I really have to –“ 

“do I look like some bloody Maester, boy, do I?” Came a booming voice. King Robert Baratheon stood in his doorway, with an expression Jon couldn’t quite read. He looked angry, but his features weren’t entirely honest either. It was like he was about to… “bahaha, calm down boy. You look like you were about to shit yourself.”

“Well your Grace, it’s not everyday a long comes barging through my door.” Jon said.

Robert looked at Jon, as though he was looking for something at fault. “You remind me too much of your father. Honourable, polite, unstoppable when in combat.” Robert said, looking straight into Jon’s eyes. Or eye, in Jon’s particular case. “I appreciate what you did for my family. Cersei and I… we haven’t had the best marriage. But she’s my wife, and the mother of my children, two of which were with her. If something had happened to her and the children, you can be damn sure I would’ve started another war.”

Jon couldn’t help snort at that comment, which the king noticed.

“You don’t think I could win a war, boy?” He asked, anger starting to creep into his tone.

“It’s not that I don’t you can a war. You’ve proven yourself, during your rebellion, and the Greyjoy Rebellion.” Jon said carefully.

“Your point being?”

“They were south of the wall. In the south. No where near Winterfell. You take all your armies up beyond the wall, everyone will be dead within a moons time, two at the most. That’s if everyone hasn’t mutinied beforehand. You think Winterfell is harsh with its weather. Beyond the wall is 10 times as bad.”

“A lot of talk for a green boy.” Robert replied.

“After today I don’t think I’d be considered green, do you?” Jon retorted.

“Phahahaha. You are truly Ned’s boy. The size of your stones must be huge with how you’re talking to your king. Anyway, I came down here to thank you for saving my family, and to reward you”

“Your Grace it’s really not neces…”

“Shut your mouth whilst I’m speaking.” Jon did just that. I will reward you, because you saved the kings family. You will be knighted…”

“Thank you your Grace, your too kind”

“… and legitimised.”

“No” was all Jon could get out.

“No?” Robert repeated. “Why no? Ned told that’s what you want, the only thing you want.”

“And now it’s not. Your Grace, the knighthood is more than I deserve. I did what anyone else in my position would do. I can’t be rewarded for that. I’m a bastard. Bastards are known for wanting to bring ruin to their house. If I’m legitimised, that’s the only thing people will say about me.”

“Then what do you want, if not legitimisation?”

“I have no clue. Perhaps a favour?”

“A favour?” 

“Yes, I don’t know what it will be or when I will ask it, but whatever I ask has to be guaranteed, whether you like it or not. Are you willing to do that?” 

“I am indeed.”

“Thank you your Grace.”

“In celebration of your upcoming knighthood, there will be a feast, or another one that is, in honour of you.”

“Thank you Grace.”

“Oh and one more thing.”

“Your Grace?”

“When me and the royal court return south to Kings Landing, you’ll be coming with us.”

Jon was beyond confused. “Why would that be, your Grace?”

“Because my wife has appointed you as her personal Guard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, another chapter for you lovely people. I am absolutely astounded by the feedback I got for 'chapter 10'. A apologise that it wasn't a proper chapter, but I genuinely wanted to know your opinions on certain matters. 
> 
> The general feeling is that the Jon/Cersei relationship is mixed. Some people want it. Some don't. There will be some form of relationship between them. I'm not saying what exactly, as that will kinda fall into spoiler territory, but just know that my Jon would never have an affair with a married woman. If you don't like this, then I do apologise, but that's how I want the story to progress.
> 
> I've also received some great ideas for Jon's charecter development. I'll be dropping hints here and there, and they will be subtle, so you'll have to be on the lookout.
> 
> Also the endgame is Jonerys. By the time his series has finished, that's the main relationship. It's gonna take time to get there, but it will get there.
> 
> Again, thank you for all your feedback on the previous 'chapter'. I was thinking of doing this sort of thing every so often, to get your honest opinion on matters. Let me know what you think.
> 
> And finally, please let me know what you think of this chapter. It's been fun to write, so hopefully it will be fun to read. Please comment, it means the world to me.
> 
> As always, have a great day and enjoy.


	12. Tales From Essos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys, new chapter, hope you like it.

Ever since her wedding to the Khal of Khals, Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, had never felt the same. She had never felt the same for a while. Not after the death of Ser Willem Darry. Just when she thought she had a normal comfortable life, everything changed. No more lemon trees. No more house with a Red Door. Nothing. Just herself, her brother and her three dragon eggs, even if they were just rocks. That had been the only good thing about her wedding, those eggs. It served as a reminder as to why she was getting married in the first place. For her house. The dragon has three heads. And she had three eggs. Viserys had been livid, of course, demanding that she give them to him. “A horses slut doesn’t deserve such a gift” were his exact words. “Give them to me Dany. You wouldn’t want to wake the Dragon, would you?” Thankfully he didn’t get them, as her ‘husband’ arrived back to their tent to retire. 

It was night she dreaded the most. After her wedding was ‘consummated’ Daenerys knew what to expect each and every night Drogo came to her. To put it simply, he would fuck her like a horse, exactly how her brother had described it. It was painful, devoid of any love or affection. It was torture. But she was his, by laws of the Dothraki. He was khal, and she was Khaleesi, his queen. She had no idea what to expect her first night. Viserys didn’t help at all. When it was revealed that she was betrothed to the Khal Of Khals, Viserys decided to take it upon himself and teach her ‘the duties all women must perform’. That first night, after the betrothal was announced, she found him in her room one night. She never liked being alone with him. He’d always hit her, or blame her for their mothers death. But this time around, he did things to her. Things that weren’t supposed to happen between siblings. But Viserys’ excuse was ‘We’re Targaryens. It’s in our blood. When she married Khal Drogo, Viserys left her alone. She thought she was, when in actuality all she had done was trade one nightmare.

She wanted to blame Drogo. She wanted to blame him for taking her roughly every night like a dog. The Dothraki don’t make love. They don’t say sweet things in the throes of passionate sex. No. All they do is fuck. A shy child of 13 on her wedding night, she had lost her Maidenhead when her ‘husband’ thrust into her. He didn’t care about her whimpers of pain, or the blood that was trickling down her leg in small amounts. No, he cared about was fucking her, no doubt to get her with child. He was The Khal Of Khals. It was expected of him to have a child or two. That was the only part of the day she hated, at the end, with their acts coitus. Whilst the morning may have been uncomfortable for her due to the aches in between her thighs, she still felt safe. She would laugh at herself. Why would she feel safe in a Khalasar of 100,000 of the most feared and brutal warriors? Because they protected her against Viserys. 

Her wedding day hadn’t been all that bad either. Yes there was death, sex and drunken shenanigans, but that was all to be expected from a Dothraki wedding. What made her wedding just a bit more bearable was him. She had never seen him before. He looked lost, constantly looking around at his surroundings, having no idea what was going on. And then she saw him look at the acts of Dothraki Coitus, and his eyes widened. He looked Westerosi, with jet black hair, all of which was magnificently curly, deep Onyx eyes and his body. Even with all the clothes he was wearing, thick furs covering his entire being from head to toe, she could just tell that he could handle himself. She sensed he kept himself fit, to the point of physical perfection. The only person she could compare this mystery man to was Khal Drogo, yet he pales in contrast to her husband. The only thing she would’ve liked, if anything, was for this mystery man to be slightly taller. Though with how young he was, she didn’t think that would be a problem in but a few years time. ‘If he stayed alive that is’ she thought.

The Dothraki weren’t know to be keen on outsiders. One of the few exceptions of this however, was the person ‘Mystery Man’ was standing next to. Ser Jorah Mormont, or Jorah The Andal, as he was frequently referred to by the Dothraki. Ser Jorah was an anointed knight, so he was an accomplished warrior. Dothraki respected strength above all else, so Ser Jorah was respected enough to make life for him in the khalasar fairly comfortable. Considering he was Westerosi, a Northener as well, as spoke Dothraki fluently. At her wedding, he was standing next to her brother Viserys, neither of them giving the young boy even a nod of acknowledgement, almost as if he wasn’t there. But he was there. She saw him looking all around, she saw his beautiful hair, his gorgeous eyes and… and that horrific scar on his face. That was the one detail she hadn’t seen. It shocked her beyond words. How could a boy, possibly no older than her, have such a grievous wound? He must have been in some terrible battle. Ser Jorah had been in some really vicious battles, the Greyjoy Rebellion being one of them and she knew he had some small scars. But those paled in comparison to to the ones this boy had. And then they locked eyes: Daenerys and this mystery man. They were looking at each other, staring in the other persons eyes. This boy must’ve thought she was looking at someone else, for he turned around to look behind him, and upon seeing that no one was there, turned back to face her again.

She had to look away, when someone presented her with yet another gift. A chest full of snakes was the gift, and she abhorred them. She would release them into the wild, or probably would have them cooked as a sort of treat for some of the Khalasar. She thanked the man, and turned to look back towards her brother and Ser Jorah. But the mysterious wonder was gone. Disappeared without a trace. As if he wasn’t there at all… 

Yet a week had passed since her wedding, and he continued to be in her thoughts. Whenever Drogo would take her, she imagined that this enigma of a man would rescue her, saving her from a life of servitude as some horselords trophy wife. Though, on the night before she went to speak to Ser Jorah, she had another vision, though it acted more like a dream. It was the boy again, only this time he was accompanied by a giant white dog… or wolf, she couldn’t really tell. Both the animal and his human companion were watching something, some sort of skirmish and Daenerys set her eyes upon such event, it almost made her want to wretch up this mornings breakfast: at least a dozen men, covered up in nothing but furs, surrounded a group of people, 3 adults and 2 children… 2 very small children. On of the adults had her dressed ripped, exposing her breast, whilst another was knocked out and the last was already incapacitated. Were it not for the fact that Daenerys knew she wasn’t in Essos, she would’ve assumed these large, towering men were Dothraki. They certainly had the build for it. But her eyes caught the movement of one said man, walking towards the little girl, no more than 8 years of age, unlacing his furred breaches. Finally when he got to her, he pulled his breaches down, exposing his large and imposing manhood. And just when she things we’re going to turn from bad to worse, it happened…

That massive white creature leapt out of the bushes, straight towards the man and his dangling cock. Before anyone could react, the animal bit down hard, holding on for a good ten seconds, before letting go and going for the mans throat, tearing it apart. From then on, it was nothing but violence with one thing in common: people were being killed, and they were being killed by this dark haired, grey eyed boy warrior. Then came the big fight, with a large man, possibly twice the size of her husband Drogo and going by the name of ‘Raam’. He died as well after having his ear pierced by the boys dagger. From then on, everything became hazy. Daenerys saw the boy struggling to breathe, then saw him walking towards the children and finally him taking off his large fur coat. That’s when she saw it. That’s when she saw them. He had scars… scars all over his chest, down his back and across his arms. Every part of his upper body was damaged beyond repair. There were so many, so severe. His face didn’t have as many, but they were still just as bad. What in the world has happened to you? She asked him, not expecting an answer. That’s when her body decided it would be good to wake up, despite how much she protested. She wanted to see this person again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my friends, hope you enjoyed this chapter. Not going to lie, this chapter was a bit difficult to write, as I've been writing about Jon for so long. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope I've done well and that you really enjoy the chapter. Any m questions in regard to the story, please feel free to ask. Also I'll be dropping very subtle hints about MAJOR plot points that'll happen in this story. Keep on the lookout for them.
> 
> Till next time, toodlepip.
> 
> P.s. Please don't forget to comment, I love reading them, gives me so much motivation and inspiration.


	13. Promises Kept, Truthes Revealed

When Ned awoke, he was in some place he didn’t recognise. The room was foreign to him, like he was in another country. A very warm country. No. No not again. Not after 14 years. Panic developed within him, wandering why he was back here of all places. The place where two lives ended, and two began. Dorne. I’m back in the fucking Tower Of Joy. It was a rather misleading title, if ever there was one. No joy came from it. Only pain, misery and death. No fucking joy whatsoever. He tried to move out of the bed he was in but a voice stopped him. 

“Don’t, you don’t want to open up your stitches.”

Ned eyes went wide. He didn’t want to look at where the voice was coming from. He knew if he did that, he’d only be disappointed. It would be like the many times it had happened before. He would see her, run after her, following her giggles until they just stopped. This happened for 9 months after returning to Winterfel with her bones and her son.

“Not going to look at me then? What, you craven or something?”

“You’re not real.”

“Oh? Aren’t I? I’m here, am I not?”

“No, just a voice in my head.”

“Ned, for fucks sakes LOOK at me.”

He had to this time. It wasn’t voluntary, as small, warm fingers cupped his chin, turning it towards the supposedly disembodied voice. Only the voice had a body. And this body belonged to- “Lyanna.” Gasped Ned. “What…? That’s impossible. You’re dead. I saw you die.” Ned said with tears streaking down his cheeks

“I know Ned, I know.” She replied, her voice raw with emotion. She was just as sad as he was. 

“Then how are you here?” He asked looking deep into her eyes. “How are you here, talking to me whilst your bones rest in the crypts beneath Winterfell? Why are you?”

“To warn you. To guide you. But most importantly, to thank you.”

“Thank me? For what?”

“For keeping your promise.”

“Promise? What promise? I didn’t-…” realisation suddenly dawned on his face, causing Lyanna to smile a sad smile. “I didn’t keep my promise. Have you seen what happened to him? Fighting Ser Jaime? You told me to protect him from Robert, yet Robert was the reason the boy almost died.”

“You couldn’t always keep the promise. He is safe. After what happened to Aegon in the Wolfswood, with the wildlings, Robert is to knight him. Aegon is going to be in the safest place of them all, right under Roberts nose. As far as he’s concerned, there’s only two Targaryens left in the word that matter; Viserys and Daenerys.”

“Lyanna, that’s what scares me the most. He’s right there, with Robert. Yes I’ll be there as well, as his Hand, but I won’t always be able to look out for him. He’s vulnerable. Now more than ever.”

“He’s a warrior, Ned. He’s only 14 years old, but he fights as well as you, or Rhaegar or even Ser Arthur. Rhaegar was a good fighter, but he wasn’t born to it. He learnt it. He’s a scholar, that’s what he did, he learns things. He was a great fighter. Just not great enough.”

“Lyanna, he shouldn’t be a warrior. He’s 14. 14! He’s almost died twice in almost as many weeks.”

“Aegon is a warrior. Whether you like it or not, he was born to be a fighter. Give him possibly 4 more years, and he’ll surpass even Ser Arthur. I mean for fucks sakes Ned, he went toe to toe with Jaime fucking Lannister. AND LIVED!”

“Not without destroying half his body in the process.”

“The scars make him look like a man. I hate that his body has been desecrated the way it has. But I’m also glad it has. He’s a survivor. Where we failed and died, he can succeed and survive. He will bring a new age of peace to the Seven Kingdoms, with Fire and Blood.”

“Fire and Blood? I’m pretty sure he needs a dragon for that, Lyanna.” Ned said, turning away from his long lost sister

Ned was met with silence. He turned back to her, where he was met with a knowing grin.

“No. That’s impossible.”

“So are Direwolves south of the wall. But I’m pretty sure that you now have 6, correct?”

“Yes, by Direwolves haven’t been extinct for almost a century.”

“Well, neither have dragons.”

“Don’t play games with me Lyanna. Why are you?”

“I’m not playing games Ned. Yes, Aegon has his Direwolf. But one fucking wolf won’t be able. To destroy entire armies when the need arises. Soon, the Seven Kingdoms will need conquering again, to save it from the turmoil that is to ensnare it. Aegon already has the name, soon he’ll have two swords to aid him. But Aegon the conqueror needs a dragon.”

“So what, you expect me to believe that he’ll just find a dragon egg mysteriously? Perhaps Aemon Targaryen will give him one. Jon plans on riding hard to Castle Black to inform the Nights Watch of what has happened. Maybe he’ll give him the egg then?” He said sarcastically.

“No. Jon won’t get a dragon egg. But he will get two swords.”

“We have swords here.”

“Not made out of Valyrian Steel. He needs a blade that will represent his house.”

“He can’t have Ice. As much as I want to give it to him, I can’t.”

“I know. That’s why he’ll be receiving Blackfyre.”

Ned’s eyes bulged out once again. “Blackfyre? Are you having me on? Who in the Seven Hells has Blackfyre?”

“Maester Aemon, of House Targaryen.”

“That doesn’t explain how he’ll get a dragon. With luck, he may be able to smuggle it to Kings Landing.”

He was caught Of guard when Lyanna started to laugh. He remembered that type of laugh. She’s laughed like this whenever he said something stupid.

“What? Why are you laughing?”

“Because Aegon’s dragon will be more than twice the size of Balerion the Black Dread.”

“Lyanna, you must tell me more.”

“Ned I’m sorry I can’t. I have to go. I’ve said more than I should have done.”

“NO!!! Don’t go, please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t leave you. So long as you look at Aegon, you will see me. You’ve been a tremendous father to a boy that isn’t your son. It could’ve gotten you and the entire North killed if the truth had been revealed. Thank you.”

“Will I see you again?” 

“Maybe. Oh and one more thing.”

“What?”

“He’s to be knighted isn’t he? Robert owes him a favour right? Aegon will use that favour soon. Robert won’t like it. He’ll be furious. You need to take my our sons side.”

“Lyanna…”

“Promise me Ned. Promise me.

“I promise.”

“I love you Ned.” Lyanna said, evident by her voice that she was crying. 

*

“Ned. Wake up. Ned, my love, wake up.”

Ned was roused by his wife’s soothing voice. After the emotional he had with his ‘sister’, he was glad to be back in the land of the living. 

“Cat, what is it? What is wrong?” He asked, sleep still in his eyes and voice.

“It’s the king, my love.”

This caught his attention. “What has happened? What does he want?”

“He wants everyone to attend the great hall.” She replied softly.

“Why?”

“Because he intends knight Jon Snow. And he intends to do it right now”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Another chapter? After two weeks? 
> 
> That's right! Ladies and lords, beggars and whores, I apologise greatly for the delay in this chapter. I say this often, but I need to say this again. I'm a full time college student. I have college 5 days a week, then have work Saturday and Sunday. That takes up all my time. This venture is for fun. I love writing it. But I'm not able to do it full time. Hopefully you can bear with me on this account. Some updates might be the next day. Others might be two or three weeks from now. I'm not sure. 
> 
> Anyhoo, hope you liked this chapter. I feel as though this will get a few comments along the lines of 'WTF just happened?' I'll answer those questions when you ask them. Which means I want comments aha. 
> 
> All feedback is appreciated, and I do take everything you say into consideration. 
> 
> As usual, any questions, please feel free to ask me. I love answering your comments.
> 
> Enjoy my dears.


	14. Chapter 14

Today was the day. The big day. The biggest day of his life so far. His knighting ceremony. He honestly didn’t believe it would happen. All Jon did was save some people. They happened to be the royal family, but did that such a feat warrant such a reward? Men would fight throughout their lives to attain such an honour. And he was getting it at the tender age of 14. He would be the youngest knight in history, surpassing even Ser Jaime Lannister himself by a year. And he was a bastard to boot. ‘Stop calling yourself that’ he would tell himself daily, whenever that word was mentioned about him. To others you are, but to your father and yourself, you’re not.

His thoughts were interrupted when a knock came on his door. He looked up, wearing just his leather breaches and boots, having not put on a tunic yet. There would be time for that soon. As he looked up, he saw the winter rose that adorned his door. He always loved the flower, always felt comforted and protected whenever he was in its presence. He didn’t know why at first, but now he does. His mother was watching over him. All this time. 

The knock came again, only this time slightly more aggressive. Sighing, knowing he wasn’t to get any more rest, he went over to his small desk, that was by his small bed inside of his small room, and picked up the eyepatch he had grown accustomed to wearing. He placed it around his head, hiding the only noticeable part of his ancestry. Thank the gods I don’t have golden hair. Robb and Theon wouldn’t let me hear the end of it. The person on the other side of his door was banging now, harder and harder with each knock. Jon was fed up now, his ribs hurt, as well as his head and he wanted the noise to stop. He walked over to the door, scowl on his face and opened it. When he saw who was on the other side, his frown disappeared from his face, only to replaced with a smile, a genuine smile that only this person could dig out of him.

“Uncle Benjen!” He exclaimed

*

“How long was I asleep for?” Ned asked his wife. He couldn’t remember much. One of the last memories he had before everything went to shit was a wildling shoving a stone dirk through Jory’s eye. After that, everything was a blur; Ghost tearing one mans cock off, then another mans throat out, Jon beheading one man then shoving his sword through the heart of another. He was later told that Jon went up against a giant of a man, and when Sandor Clegane saw him, acknowledged that the wildling in question was as large as his brother Gregor ‘The Mountain’ Clegane, if not larger. This immediately put Jon in the ‘Hounds’ good graces. Ned wasn’t too sure what to make of that. Sandro was a great warrior, that was no question. The only thing that worries him is the fact that he’s Joffrey’s sworn shield. Quite literally the boys ‘dog’.

“Not long, my love. A few hours. Maester Luwin gave you milk of the poppy for your leg. If he hadn’t of reached you sooner, you would’ve died. Either from frostbite or blood loss.”

“Who are you talking about?” Ned asked carefully.

“The bast-… Jon. Jon Snow.” Cat said. Ned knew his wife. Knew that the word she was about to utter was almost second nature to her. Before it wouldn’t have effected her. But now, he knew it shamed her. That’s why she stopped herself. 

“I’m sorry Ned. I know he’s not. Not after what you told me. About his… about your sister. I’m so so sorry. I don’t hate him. I used to. I wouldn’t go out of my way to make his life difficult, but I did enough to make it hell for the boy.”

“Why are you telling me this?” He asked gently.

“Because I want to make things right. After his duel with Ser Jaime, when he was recovering in his bed, all bloody and scarred, Jaime Lannister came by. I lost it Ned. I was just so angry. The night before his duel, I told him not to dishonour my family. MY FAMILY! Not his. But when Ser Jaime came by, the only thing I wanted to do was protect the boy. I had no right.”

“Why do you say that? Why don’t you have a right?”

“Because for 14 years I thought he would steal Robb’s place as Lord of Winterfell! I thought he would slit Bran and Rickon’s throats. I thought he would defile my daughters. That’s what I was taught to believe. That the only thing all bastards sought was chaos. Chaos on their fathers house. To make everyone’s life a misery. That’s why. All his life I hated him. And now I would gladly die for him. I would die for all my children. But I don’t know how to say that to him. And now he’s to be knighted. He’s achieved so much with nothing to his name. I wonder what things would’ve been like if I had loved him from the beginning.” 

“Cat, I don’t know what to tell you. All I can say is you need to deal with this. I can’t help. As much as I love you, this is your problem. Jon isn’t a cruel child. He’s always put other ahead of him. Always. We need to get ready. It’s almost time for the ceremony. My son is to be knighted.” He said with a small smile.

“Our son is to be knighted?”

This caught Ned off guard, definitely not expecting this response from her, but pleased nonetheless. “Aye, our son is to be knighted.”

*

“What are you doing here? When did you arrive? When did you leave Castle Black?” Jon bombarded his uncle with questions. One after the other. 

“Calm down Jon. I’m here for your knighting ceremony, as well as to hear to what you have to say about the wildling. I arrived just now and I left Castle Black a day ago. I rode hard. Almost killed my horse doing so.”

“I’ll tell you all about the wildlings when we get there.” Jon replied.

“Get where? The great hall?” Benjen asked tentatively.

“No, Castle Black.” Jon said, matter of factly.

“Jon, are you sure you want to go there?”

“I have to. They need to know. I need to see.”

“See what? The wall?”

“Among other things.”

Benjen was left to ponder the statement as they walked towards the great hall of Winterfell. Realisation suddenly dawned on him, but he was hesitantly believe it. Still, he had to find out. He stopped Jon, taking him to the side, out of sight and earshot of anyone passing by. “You know, don’t you?”

Jon was confused by the question. “What do you mean uncle?”

“Don’t play games with me Jon. You know. You know don’t you? Why else would you want to go to Castle Black?”

“What in the seven Hells are you talking about?”

“Aemon! Maester Aemon Targaryen. He’s at Castle Black. That’s why you want to go. You know of your family, and you want to see him.”

“A Targaryen still lives? In Westeros?” Jon asked cautiously.

“Yes Jon, yes! He’s over a hundred years old and can’t see worth shit, but he’s an amazing man. Not suited to the cold though. He’d enjoy somewhere a little warmer.”

“You know about me then?” Jon asked again.

“What, that you’re heir to the iron thron? Oh aye Jonny boy, I know. Wait, what happened to your eye?”

“It doesn’t matter. So Maester Aemon, he’d be what, my uncle? My great uncle? My great great uncle?”

“He’s your family. That’s all that matters. He always looks for information regarding the exiled Targaryens in Essos. He can’t do much, but he wants to know about them nonetheless. It would do him good to know he has a family member so close to home.”

An idea suddenly came to Jon. “Uncle Benjen, I know what my favour will be used for.”

“Favour? What bloody favour?”

“King Robert owes me a favour of any kind. I’ll use mine to release my Great Uncle from his vows. He can serve me as Maester.”

“Robert will never allow it. Neither will the Maester.”

“We’ll see about that.” Jon stated, bringing this discussion to an end.

*

When Jon arrived to the great hall, he was disheartened by what he saw. He felt his heart sink to his stomach, wanting nothing more than to crawl away to his room, and rest. The Great Hall of Winterfell was packed with Lords and Ladies, both from the kings royal court and those from the North.

King Robert was at the front, sitting in the lords seat. As Jon walked towards him, the king stood up and spoke with his loud booming voice. “It’s about bloody time you got here.”

“Apologies your Grace, I was held up slightly. I didn’t realise it would be so soon.” 

“My wife insists we get it over and done with and I find myself agreeing with her. Come forth and kneel before me boy.”

Jon gave a nervous look around the hall and immediately regretted it. At least a hundred eyes were all staring at him. He missed it when he was just a bastard. No one noticed him then. Now he’s to be anointed and made Cersei Lannister’s sworn shield. This must surely be a jest from the old gods Jon thought. But he wanted to get this over and done, so he did the only thing he could do. The only thing that was permitted. He knelt down on one knee before the most powerful man in Westeros. Robert withdrew his sword from his sheath and placed it upon Jon’s right shoulder, causing Jon to shudder and take a deep breath.

“Jon Snow, do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your captains, your liege, and your king, to fight bravely when needed and do such other tasks that are laid upon you, however hard or humble or dangerous they may be?”

It was now or never.

“I do. I will do all that has been asked of me and more in the name of my king.”

With that, Robert moved his sword from Jon’s right shoulder to his left.

“You may rise, Ser Jon Snow of Winterfell. A great honour has been bestowed upon you. Don’t fuck it up.” The king said with a large grin on his face. “Whilst I’m here, I suppose you lot want to address some concerns of yours to me?” Court is still in session, so let’s get this over with.”

Jon was glad that people were now petitioning the King. This meant all the eyes were off him and back onto the king. Everyone had a chance to speak. There were numerous disputes about land, about Lords daughters and how some man ‘dishonoured’ them. There was a particularly gruesome tale about very large man causing havoc wherever he went, burning villages to the ground, stealing whatever gold the poor had and raping any woman who was foolish enough to be seen by him. As this was being said, all eyes turned to Sandro Clegane. Jon didn’t realise why at first, but then remembered he had a much, much, much larger brother. They’re judging him for his brothers crimes. 

The last petitioner was by far the most interesting, for Jon had never heard of such things. He was a messenger sent by Lord Stannis Baratheon of Dragonstone, relating to the king that the island had suffered several episodes where the ground would violently shake. The length of such episodes varied, some lasting seconds, whilst others lasted minutes and one even lasted an hour! Robert wasn’t too interested in it all.

“Dragonstone sits atop a volcano. And you wonder why the ground is shaking?” 

But the messenger had came prepared for that reply, saying that Lord Stannis knew exactly what his brother would say. In over three hundred years, ever since the Targaryen Dynasty landed on Dragonstone, there had been such incidents. It just started two weeks ago, without any explanation.

Robert found this uninteresting yet again. So he replied with a comment that ended the discussion once and for all, bringing an end to the court for the day.

“Maybe a dragon has awoken in the caves underneath the castle. It’ll do my brother some good to lighten up a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, another chapter of you. Hopefully you like it. This chapter sets the direction the story will take now. Certain things are going to happen now because of it, so I wanna see if you guys can figure out what these things are .
> 
> Anyway, comments are wildly appreciated, as is feedback, so please bombard me with comments. Also, if there are any artists out there, indeed your help. I need a bad ass looking dragon, and I can't draw for shit. Help a brother out?
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter, and pease leave comments. I love them. I really love them.


	15. Chapter 15

Jon was intrigued by what Stannis Baratheon’s messenger had to say. The ground shaking without any warning, lasting seconds, minutes and even an hour. And what the king said in response to the news, about a dragon trying to claw its way out from underneath the castle. Jon knew it was folly, but he still remembered reading a book all about dragons. It was said that during the Dance of The Dragons, there lived three wild dragons on Dragonstone. No one knew where they had come from, where they had hatched from or how long they had been there. They were called Sheep Stealer, Grey Ghost and the largest and most fearsome of the three, Cannibal. Grey Ghost was found dead, partially devoured, Sheep Stealer was tamed by a girl called Nettles, though it was said that they later drowned after she was branded a traitor for sleeping with Prince Daemon Targaryen. The third dragon, Cannibal, suddenly and mysteriously disappeared after the war of succession. No one could find him, which was quite an achievement, as it was said he was of a similar size to Balerion the Black Dread when he died. For this humongous dragon to just disappear was extraordinary.

But another thing nagged at him: the timing. Everything was incredibly odd. The Starks finding 6 Direwolf pups, the revelation of Jon’s true heritage, his now permanently discoloured eye… it all seemed like some sort of cosmic plan was in motion, which was preposterous. Jon was a nobody. Was a nobody. Now you’re a knight of the Seven Fucking Kingdoms. Which coincidentally are also yours. Woe to the Usurper. Jon was now a knight, one of the highest positions available to any one. I’m a knight. Just like the kingslayer, Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Barristan The Bold. All three men were known throughout the Seven Kingdoms for their actions. During the War of the Ninepenny Kings, Ser Barristan slew Maelys Blackfyre in single combat, signalling the end of the final Blackfyre Rebellion. Ser Arthur Dayne was also known as the Sword Of The Morning, a legendary title bestowed only to worthy members of House Dayne. As the Sword Of The Morning, he also wielded the Greatsword Dawn, which is said to have been forged from a falling star. It has been said that this steel has the same properties as Valyrian Steel. Finally, there was Ser Jaime Lannister. The Kingslayer, The Man Without Honour and Oathbreaker. He was an amazing fighter, a truly formidable warrior. But all his achievements with the Sword has been tainted by just one act; When he slew the king he vowed to protect. No one knew why he had committed such a heinous and treasonous act, only that he did it. Jon’s Father wanted to execute Ser Jaime, after he and Robert Baratheon found King Aerys II dead in a pool of blood, and Ser Jaime sitting on the Iron Throne. Jon was now a Knight Amongst legends. Legends who had already made a name for themselves. And now it was his turn. 

As the lords from both the Kings Court and The North left, Jon Snow went over to his family. Arya was the first one to him, running full pelt towards him and jumping, forcing Jon to catch her as she collided with him. This of course winded him, as she had hit his damaged ribs. “Oof. Careful Arya. You’ll do more damage than the Wildlings.” Arya, the little brat, looked apologetic, but Jon knew better. She was probably mad at him for some reason, though he had idea no what. “I’ve missed you Brother” she silently said. “I’ve missed you too, Little Wolf.” Next was Sansa. They had never been close. She took after her mother in that aspect. She would always refer to Jon as her ‘Half-Brother’, much to the chagrin of Arya. “Congratulations Jon” was all she said. She wanted to say more, it was obvious on her features, but she couldn’t find the words. She had always reminded him what he was. “Thank you, My Lady” was Jon’s only reply. The next three were his brothers, Bran, Rickon and Robb. Rickon was the one who was almost clueless to what was going on around him. He knew something big had happened, as there had been so many people, all in one place, all at the same time. Beyond that, his little three year old brain didn’t understand the enormity of the current situation. He just knew his big brother was now a knight. Bran on the other hand was a completely different matter

“You’re a knight. An actual Knight! That’s… that’s so amazing. Wait, that means you don’t have to be a squire anymore. But you’ll need a squire… Jon, can I be your Squire?! Please Jon please? I can go to kings Landings with you and father and Sansa and Arya. Oh please Jon. I want to be a knight as well.” Bran kept rambling on to he amusement of his family. Bran was a passionate lad, one who had always set his sights on becoming a knight since he was but a little boy, which actually wasn’t too long ago. “We’ll see Bran, ok? It’s something to ask your father about, not me. Besides, I’ll be very busy when we get to Kings Landing.” Jon said. Finally, it was Robb’s turn to speak. “Why’s that Snow?” He asked politely. “Because, Stark, I’m to be the sworn shield for Queen Cersei Lannister. Well, her and her children. Tommen and Myrcella that is.” Robb just beamed at his brother, letting him know he was truly proud of him. “Robb, you keep looking at me like that, then I’ll have to come over and kiss ya.” Jon said cheerily. “Kiss me? Why, cause I’m so pretty?” 

“Well it’s certainly not cause of your Sword skills. You’re shite.”

This earned Jon a soft slap in his ribs from father. “Language Jon. You’re in front of the children.” Ned said, though he couldn’t help but grin. While Jon and Robb didn’t kiss, they did however share a hug. Half brothers they may be, strangers wouldn’t be able to to tell from their embrace. “Well done Jon, if any deserved it, it was you.” Robb whispered into his brothers ear, making sure his mother wasn’t able to hear. 

His family hadn’t been able to visit him whilst he was comatose. Well, it was more like forbidden to visit him. Their father had said so. He saw what damage had been wrought upon Jon’s young, tender body and he wasn’t prepared for his children to see it. He didn’t want them to see their brother in such a weak and vulnerable position. He was worried it would taint their perception of him. 

Jon and Robb’s embrace was cut short however, when the shrill voice of Joffrey Baratheon rang out. “Bastard” he said rather smugly “didn’t you hear my father? He wishes to speak to you. Now Bastard.” For his efforts, Joffrey received a flick across his. It wouldn’t normally of mattered, but as it was the Hound that did so, it was a tad painful.

Sighing deeply, he looked to his family once more, worried that this may be the last time he sees them. It was pure folly of course. He lived with them, so of course he would see them. But still the feeling lingered somewhere within him. “ I’ll see you all later” he addressed them all, but he lingered on Arya. “And you, ya little devil, do as you’re told. And stay out of trouble.” This was met with a rather sarcastic “Yes Father” which in turn earned Arya a clip around her ear as from from their actual father. “What was that for?” She asked, mouth agape. The simple look from the Warden of the North told her exactly what that was for.

After he watched them leave the great hall of Winterfell, he turned his attention towards the royal family and started to make his way towards them. “Your Grace.” He said directly to the king. Robert gave Jon a look over before finally speaking, with sounded like a tired and somewhat defeated voice. 

“What do you know about the Targaryens?” He asked. Jon was certainly at a loss. He definitely wasn’t expecting this.

“Just about what everyone else knows. Almost 300 years, Aegon The Conquerer came to Westeros on Balerion The Black Dread and well, conquered Westeros and the Seven Kingdoms within them.”

“And what about the exiled ones, currently in Essos?”

“Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen? Nothing muc, except that Daenerys is not much younger than me, lost her mother when she was born and hasn’t really had a home her entire life. It’s a bad sad really.”

“Sad? Rhaegar Targaryen kidnapped my betrothed, kidnapped and RAPED HER! And you’re saying that the Dragon Bitches circumstances are a bit sad? She married a savage horse lord, who is said to command the largest army anyone has ever seen. 40,000 Riders.”

At this, Tommen and Myrcella were escorted out by the Hound, though Joffrey seemed to remain.

“And your point is?” Jon said.

“My point? My POINT, is that she has opened her legs for an army to take back my Kingdoms. Mine!”

“Have you ever considered that mayhaps she had been forced into the arrangement? She’s what, 13 years old? 13, your Grace. And you’re afraid of her?”

“Don’t mock me boy. I’m not afraid of a teenaged slut. I want her dead! And her brother Viserys. ‘The Beggar King’, they call him. I don’t know whether to laugh or to cry. Rumour has it he takes straight from his father. A true Targaryen, through and through. Bloody Mad.”

Well that’s not exactly true. Look at me. “Well, my King, if you want her dead, why not kill her? Send out men to do the job for you.”

“Bwhahahaha! You think I haven’t tried boy? Ever since the end of the rebellion, I’ve sent men out to kill Viserys and his sister slut. Obviously to no avail.”

I won’t let what happened to Aegon and Rhaenys happen to my aunt and uncle. “Then send me.”

Robert looked at Jon as the boy was something most foul. “Send you? Why would I send you?”

“Cause you haven’t had much luck elsewhere. They won’t expect me. And besides, your problem is that you don’t plan well enough ahead of time. You just send men out, bidding them luck, if that.”

“Then what do you suggest boy? I’m running out of patience.”

“Take them down from the inside. This is also where my favour you owe me comes in. I want someone from the Nights Watch pardoned.”

“Who?”

“Maester Aemon Targaryen.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Do you want these would be usurpers dead? If the answer is yes, then you’ll give me what I ask. It’ll take time, but I believe that with enough careful prodding, the old Maester will be able to help us, even if he doesn’t realise it. If he does, it’s not like he’s in a position to argue.”

Robert was obviously contemplating the decision. If he did say yes, then any and all threats to his claim on the Iron Throne would disappear. After a rather unbearably long silence, The King had made his decision.

“Fine. You can have your fucking pardon. But I want them dead, you hear me? Dead! Now go, you’ll get the fucking favour soon enough. Leave me boy” and without further ado, Jon himself left the great hall. He went straight to his room, lied down on his bed and rested. Resting his ribs and thinking about the colossal shit storm he had just gotten himself into. As soon as he closed his eyes, he was asleep.

*

Jon dreamt of an island, with a giant castle laying atop it. One moment, it was surrounded by boats in the sea. Hundreds, mayhaps even thousands, laying siege to this one castle. One moment there was a siege, the next half the castle had disappeared, sunk into the ground. And the ships? All obliterated. Burned. What was curious though was that the Fire want normal. Yes it was fire, but the colour was off. Most flames would be an orangey red, or if you were lucky or unlucky to witness wildfyre, then green. But this flame was purple. Flaming purple. Those two moment kept flashing back and forth between Jon’s mind. The Castle under siege, then the ships utterly devastated. This kept going back on and on until eventually, he heard a blood curdling roar. It was something he had never heard before. It sounded angry. No, it sounded pissed. Again it came, this horrific sound, only this time it came from above where Jon was standing. He had to. He just absolutely had to. So he looked up, not sure what he was expecting to see. And that’s when his eyes almost popped out of their sockets. He saw… His uncle Benjen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, another chapter for you guys. Hopefully you'll like it like all the other chapters, but if not, let me know what needs to be improved. Feedback, criticism and general comments are all welcome here. Just nothing overly negative.
> 
> If you have any questions, please feel free to ask. If you don't understand something, then ask me. It's what I'm here for. Anyhoo, without further ado, i hope you enjoyed the chapter, and till the next time my friends.


	16. Sneak Peek!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait in between chapters. I haven’t forgotten about this story, I just had a bit of writers block when it come to this, that’s why I started to a new series, to try and get back into things
> 
> This is not the finished chapter, just a sneak peak of what’s to come. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it. Hopefully...

Battle Of The Bastard

 

“Wake up Jon, it’s time to leave.” Benjen Stark said. “Come on Jon, get your bloody arse out of bed. You’re the one who wanted to ride to Castle Black, remember?”

“Don’t remind me. Urg Seven hells, my chest is killing me.”

“Well what do you expect. Not only did you survive a bout with Jaime Lannister, but you also managed to almost kill a band of wildlings, led by a mean fucker called Raam all by yourself. Do you know how many men we sent out after him? 20. 20 men. Now that may not sound like a lot to you, but to us, that’s nearly a fucking army’s worth. Only one poor bloke came back from that and lived just long enough to tell us what happened and who did it. And then you come in, a 14 year boy, who has never gotten in a proper fight I might add, killed several of his compatriots, his brother and then himself. Of course your chest is going to fucking kill you, you big pillock.”

“Thank you for the kind words of encouragement Uncle.” Jon said, wincing with every word he spoke. Benjen took notice of this, sighing and frowning. “Are you going to be able to ride to Castle Black? Cause it’s causing you a tremendous amount of pain to just talk. How the hell are you going to manage the ride, where I can guarantee you your chest will be bouncing up and down like a whore’s tits. Tell me what you know, and I’ll relay the message for you.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I need to go. I… I want to go. I have to see him, Uncle. I have to see Aemon Targaryen and bring him back. I have to protect him.”

“He’s protected enough at The Wall Jon, there’s nothing you can do.”

“I can keep him warm. Winterfell will be cold, but at least your cock won’t fall off when you go take a piss, which I’m sure happens at the Wall?”

“Poor Johnson… and well his Johnson.”

“I have to see him. He’s my family.”

“You’re family is here Jon, at Winterfell.”

“My mothers family. I need to see my fathers family. He must feel so alone, only being told that his entire family died. I have to help him and then hopefully, my aunt and uncle.”

“Why you though Jon? Why take all this responsibility by yourself?”

“Because no one else knows what I know! I have just found out that half my entire family has been killed, before I was even born. That a newborn babe had his head smashed against the wall, and a little girl had been stabbed Gods know how many times, whilst their mother watched and was RAPED! You think I’m going to let this happen to my aunt and Uncle now?”

“Jon, lad, you’re 14 years old. 14 and a knight. You’ve already killed several people, doubtless you’ll kill more as you live a long life. Now you’re trying to save a dying house?”

“Half of my heritage! That’s what you don’t understand Uncle, they are my family on my fathers side. If my roles were reversed, and I was a true born Targaryen, I would gladly save the Starks. Yes I have my family here, but dammit Benjen, I won’t let my relatives die. I won’t.”

Benjen sighed. “ I know lad, I know. But you’ll have plenty of time to do that. There’s no point rushing over there right away, otherwise you’ll die straight off. Yes you and Ghost might kill a few of something, but in the end, lack of preparation always kills a man.”

“Are you speaking from experience, Uncle?” The look that Benjen Stark gave to Jon told all needed to know. That either himself or someone he knew at The Wall had made the same mistake.

“Come on Jon, we’re wasting time here, go down to the hot springs, get washed and then break your fast. We’ll need to leave soon if want to reach Castle Black soon. Two hours at most you have.”

*

Sighing in pleasure as the soothingly warm water from the Hot Springs underneath Winterfell soothes his beaten and bruised body, Jon can’t help but think about the decisions made in the past month that have led to where he is now. Some part of himself still hates that fact that King Robert had ordered him and Jaime Lannister to compete against each other, but at the same time realised that if he hadn’t, Jon would never have known who his mother was, never have saved his Father, the Prince, Princess, Queen and her brother and never would’ve been made a Knight Of The Seven fucking Kingdoms.

“Seven fucking Hells” he mutters to himself. Suddenly remembering that he has to tend to his scarred body, Jon lifts himself out from the large pool and walks over to where his clothes are, all in a heap and picks up a rather large vial of ointment. Maester Luwin has told Jon that every time Jon went for a bath or a wash, he would have to apply this ointment all over his scarred physique, to stop the risk of infection. Unfortunately the scars would be a permanent fixture on his body, all deep and nasty, whilst probably going worse with age. Jon was a survivor; his arms, back and front were all evidence to that. 

Jon opened the vial and lightly dipped his fingers in, trying not to gag at the repugnant odour that had also been released. Carefully he applied the ointment, first on his left arm, then his right arm, his front and his face. He tried to get most of his back, but in the end only managed to get his shoulders and below his neck. The majority of his back was left untouched by the ointment, which wouldn’t help Jon at all. “Seven fucking Hells” he muttered to himself.

Suddenly a voice penetrated the silence. “Mind if I help you?” It took almost all of Jon’s effort not to turn around yelp in shock, partly because he had no idea who would be down here at this time. Instead, he turned around, in all his naked glory, muscles exposed and his manhood proudly on display to come face to face with none other than Cersei Lannister… who was just as naked as Jon was.

“Your Grace! What are you doing here?!” Jon all but spluttered. “Why, I’m taking a bath, what on earth does it look like?” She replied casually, almost as though she had planned this moment…

“I meant what are you doing here? In the hot springs? You’re not supposed to be here, only the Starks may use these facilities.”

“Oh, but you’re not a stark, are you Jon Snow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what’s gonna happen now? I’m probably gonna get a lot of shit for where I’m taking this, but you know what? I don’t care! I’ve explained many, many, many, many times what I’m going to do with this story in the comments on previous chapters. If you don’t like that what’s happening, then I’m sorry. Well not really.
> 
> End of my salty rant, hopefully you guys really enjoyed this little sneak peek. I’m not sure when the full chapter will be released, but when it is, it will be much longer than this. Enjoy my pretties, and till the next time :) :) :)


	17. Truth and Reconciliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the previous chapter, the Preview. I’ve decided to have that as a separate smaller chapter, and this continues on straight from there

“Thank you for reminding me, Your Grace” Jon said bitterly. Whilst Jon accepted that he was a bastard, he still didn’t like to be called one. Though why Jon cares anymore was beyond him, as he wasn’t actually a bastard, though the only people who knew this was limited to one hand.

“Come now Ser Jon, I was only jesting with you” the queen said, with a bright smile on her face. With Jon’s continued sullen look, that smile quickly faded. “Jon, I’m sorry, I didn’t..”

“Forget it your grace, I’m just being my broody self. I’ve come to accept my position as my fathers bastard, but still, when someone calls me it… I need to get over it, especially if I’m to ride south with you as your Sword Shield. I’ve been told that King’s Landing is a pit of vipers. I shall not come unprepared.”

“You are only 14 years of age, just a tad older than my Joffrey, yet you speak as though you are older. How is it that you speak with such wisdom, whereas my ‘beloved husband’ the King has none.” Cersei replied.

“I’ve done and seen things most grown men will have never imagined doing or seeing in their entire lives. I may be 14 years of age, but I have a responsibility to the people of the realm, for I am a kni…”

“King. You’re a king Jon Snow, if that truly is your name.” She smiled slightly from the look of pure shock and terror that came across his face at that statement. “Don’t give me that face. You fight like a man I once knew, one I once loved, hoping he could be mine, but alas it never came to be. Oh, and the fact that one of your eyes is the exact same shade of colour as his is a dead giveaway. I knew who you were truly were when you rescued myself and my daughter. You do remember me ripping my dress for you, do you not?”

“You did that because my head was bleeding”

“I did it so that Robert couldn’t kill another innocent child. I believe I have also figured out why you have decided to use your favour, a favour with which you can ask for literally anything, to save an old man that resides at the worlds end.”

Jon sat in the hot springs, silently contemplating what he had just heard coming from the queens mouth. She knew who he was, who his parents were, why he used his favour for something so seemingly minor. He didn’t know whether to be scared or in awe of the woman, sitting across from him. She could either become an enemy… or a very unlikely ally.

Realising that he also had to break his fast and meet his uncle for the ride towards castle black, he quickly jolted upright, sending a small wave of water towards Cersei. It caused her hair to become absolutely soaked through, which caused her to have this look of pure shock and anger on her face. Jon thought he was going to get an earful, until she shrieked with laughter. Confused, he cocked his head to the side. 

“You are all about honour Jon Snow, yet you expose yourself before your rightful queen. Hahaha.”

It was only then that Jon realised that his cock was on full display, in all its glory. Cheeks becoming as red as the Targaryen Banners, he quickly covered it in his hands, to no avail, and got out of the springs. This was another big mistake, as he heard her comment about his perfect little arse instead. Hastily getting dressed, not caring in the slightest if his clothes got wet from not drying off, Jon turned around and came face to face with the queen, not hearing her get out of the water. 

She cupped his heavily scarred cheek in her palm, rubbing her thumb over the damaged and marred tissue before looking straight into his eyes. Jon was glad, as this meant he had somewhere else to look asides from her chest. Her emerald eyes pierced into his onyx and purple ones, before speaking.

“Take care Jon Snow. I know you’re going to do stupid. You are a man after all. Every single man does something stupid. Rhaegar Targaryen fell in love with your mother, my “husband” had innocent children murdered for the crimes of bearing the name ‘Targaryen’. And Lord Stark is the most stupidest of them all, taking a boy that’s not his own, a boy destined to be slaughtered all because of who his father was. He lied to the King. Is still lying to the king. I hope to god the lie continues, at least until Robert dies.”

Jon was silent throughout the whole of the Queen’s speech, totally shocked by what she heard. She knew of his Father’s treason, knew of his true identity, knew everything about his secret life. She even knew he was going to do something stupid. And she was committing treason for not telling the king. He didn’t know what to make of her. All thoughts of his were interrupted as she spoke again.

“Come back alive, Jon Snow. My daughter would be heart broken to hear of your demise” Jon tried to speak but was promptly cut off by Cersei “she loves you boy, but I know you would never dishonour her. I know she’s considerably younger than you, but to her, you’re the gallant knight who came and rescued the fair maiden.”

“With respect your grace” Jon finally managed to get out “but your daughter knows nothing about love.” Her laughter suddenly filled the hot springs.

“Oh you poor, naïve boy.”

She caught his eyes once and again with her own.

“You know nothing Jon Snow”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry about the late update for this story. I have no excuse, other than the fact that college got in the way again. I’m not sure when my next update will be, but there will be another one, as well as an update to Shattered Perspectives as well.
> 
> I will also be doing some more stories for different fandoms as well, as I have at least 4 Fandoms I’m currently interested in doing. Ooh goody. Also, do you have any suggestions for what I could write. Whilst I love writing the series, sometimes I become stagnant, and I can’t creatively come up with anything. That’s one of the reasons for the delays. 
> 
> So I would love to hear your suggestions for what you’d like see in the future, and possibly any fandoms you’d like to see me write for. Also, if you really want, I can tell you what I’m currently planning in my cranial cavity.  
> Hank you so much for the support you guys have continued to show me, and I look forward to hearing from you.
> 
> Comments are a godsend people!!! Love you all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, new series, hope you guys like. I'm not sure how long it's gonna be, but at the moment I'm thinking about 2-3 chapters. If this gets enough support, or if people want me continue after said chapters have been completed, then I will happily do so.
> 
> Next chapter, it will be written more clearly and with a purpose. As this is a new idea, I got quite nervous, so I don't think my writing is as good as it could've been. It will only improve, I promise.
> 
> If you guys liked the chapter, please leave me a comment down below. I like them more than Kudos. Though I wouldn't say no to Kudos either


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